


Ouroboros: Awakening

by Lannakitty



Series: Ouroboros [2]
Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fix-It, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 06:32:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5364968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lannakitty/pseuds/Lannakitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>S2 AU - A schism has formed within the Network and Helen finds herself facing a war on two fronts. As the Cabal maneuvers resources to capitalize on this instability, Helen fights protect the people in her charge. The visions of her daughter and the whispers have continued to haunt her, bringing her ability to lead into question in the Sanctuary Network's Darkest hour. Elsewhere in the world, old, powerful forces have taken notice of the conflict and reach out to impose their will on the world once more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to Angelqueen who, at one point in the far past, helped beta some of this. Also thanks to Kat and Oparu who were there for the early genesis of this and dealt with my waffling like pros.
> 
> Much delayed, but here ya go Hiddencait :) Might as well pull this off my HD

* * *

_  
Dear friends,_

_For nearly a year we have struggled to maintain our way of life. Against steep odds, we have held on and lived. However, our losses have been as tragic as they have been many, and there seems to be no end in sight. My friends, we cannot go on like this and expect to live._

_Calls for reform or action have gone unheeded. Resources have been squandered. No solution has been reached and our ability to maintain the sovereignty and security of our houses has been violated. Despite many attempts to find a more peaceful solution if not a more final one, the decision was made time and again to continue the fight. My dear friend Suharto was but the last one I have lost in this tragic affair._

_While Dr. Magnus has served for more than one lifetime as the head of the network and her contributions to science, society, and to each of us personally cannot be ignored, she has made a number of unfortunate missteps. Driven by the terrible loss of her daughter, Dr. Magnus has disputed every attempt made to bring about an end to this conflict. Indeed, this situation appears to have been entirely avoidable as it is a personal dispute between the head of the organization we know as the Cabal and Dr. Helen Magnus. As head of the entire network, Dr. Magnus is in a position to affect a large number of beings. With great power comes great responsibility, including keeping personal conflicts from affecting the network as a whole. In this, she has failed. While I extend my sympathy to Dr. Magnus, I cannot afford to ignore her blind need to strike at the organization that took Ashley before her time._

_Before his untimely death, my dear friend Suharto and I discussed that perhaps the wisest course of action was to separate from the Sanctuary Network and continue as independent entities. The benefits to this are many as we can more accurately and freely help the abnormals in our jurisdictions, fully control our budgets, and distance ourselves from the focus of the Cabal's ire. It was his firm belief that we strike on our own, and it is in his memory that I do so now._

_I hope you would all consider the abnormals of New York, and my house, as your friends and allies, and I hope that you will join me as we take these first brave steps. There is always some fear and uncertainty when change happens, but we must progress. I would hope that our independent organizations are able to maintain civil if not friendly working relationships, free from the infighting, politicking, and bureaucracy that we have all suffered through, and free from the specter of the Cabal hounding us at every opportunity._

_No matter your choice, I wish you well in your future endeavors._

_Terrance Wexford._

__

* * *

"I can't believe he did it," Henry growled. He angrily typed at his keyboard, revoking access from the Network's databases. More accounts kept popping up with each one he killed, like some kind of digital hydra.

"What?" Kelly, London's IT tech, asked. "That he defiled Uncle Ben's teachings or that he thought he could copy the whole Network's database?" The abnormal woman was a selkie with a thick Scottish accent. This week she had bright blue hair.

"I've just about locked them out of the rest of our finances," Priya said. The hood at her neck kept puffing out part way in a nervous tick. Over the secure video conference Henry could see the flash of fangs. "Done. I'm going to help stop that — "She cut herself off then began to mutter curses in Hindi under her breath. Priya had recruited New York's head of IT and was taking his defection personally. It _was_ a defection, that much had been made clear by the counter measures New York was employing.

"Their email is cut from our network. I'm severing our external contracts with them. If Wexford wants to re-establish anything that's his problem," Mikal in Cairo spoke up. "I can't believe Tom would turn on us." Mikal was a normal human who'd fallen for a Jinn girl who worked for Pili.

"Tom's always been a bit of a showoff," Henry muttered. "But it's a stupid move."

"Agreed," Priya growled.

"Henry!"

"Kinda busy here, Kate," Henry said, not taking his eyes off the screen. New York was doing it's best to break into their firewalls and take whatever they could before they were entirely severed from the rest of the network.

"Magnus is on her way back," Kate said, looking over her shoulder. "How's it going?"

"Can I rip his network down?" Priya asked, hissing more than usual. "Cut his utilities? Kill their finances?"

"Focus on the task at hand. Don't get fancy or we'll leave something open," Henry ordered.

"These systems weren't meant to be separated," Kelly groused.

Henry grimaced. He'd just spent the better part of a year fixing them so they couldn't be broken into. "Keep it together people. We've got to harden up before Tom can send any presents our way or make off with all our paychecks."

"I'll leave you to this... fun," Kate said, backing off. 

Henry didn't hear her go.

* * *

Kate and her Old Friend met Helen at the door. John had teleported them just outside of the shield and both of them had hurried inside. Kate's arm was in a sling and Helen would have preferred she was still in bed, but it was likely she'd need Kate's help to coordinate if anything else.

"See that John has a meal and then goes to bed," Helen said nearly shoving John at her Old Friend. "He's exhausted."

"Helen, I am fine!"

"I'll see to it."

John glared up at her Old Friend.

Helen put a hand on his arm. "John, please."

He focused on her, inscrutable for a moment, then nodded mutely.

Helen squeezed his arm. "Thank you."

"Awesome. So, boss," Kate said, as she handed Helen a computer. They began to walk toward the elevators. "Hank's busy locking New York out of everything. He's got the global Nerd Herd doing a lot of technobabble. It seems to be going okay, but New York is trying to yank a copy of everyone's database and Hank said something about clusters."

"New York houses one of our data clusters."

"Hank said he backed it up."

Helen blinked. "He did?"

"Yeah, is that good?"

"It means we won't lose access to that data once we sever ties with New York." Helen felt sick saying it.

"So that's good?"

"It's something. What else?"

"Well, everyone is freaking out and Will is playing secretary again."

"The FBI agents?"

"Rescheduled," Kate said. "They left after we got word about New York."

"Do we have a time?"

"Penciled in for tomorrow."

"Well, we should have things sorted out one way or another by then," Helen said. She rubbed her temples.

"How's Rio?"

"We repelled them. We almost had Mr. Wood, but they sent in a heavily armed extraction team before we could secure him. Maria is rebuilding a wall, and her network and utilities should be back momentarily if they aren't already. Perhaps twenty casualties." 

"That sucks, but it could be worse. I've been keeping word of New York and Rio on the down low here. Helps that most people are asleep right now." She pressed the down button for Helen.

"Thank you, Kate."

Kate shrugged her good shoulder and entered the elevator with Helen.

* * *

Will fought the urge to rub his temples as the Heads of House fought over what to do next. At least they'd quickly come to the consensus that New York be severed from the rest of the network. Wexford was attempting to call everyone, but thus far, Henry and the other IT guys were blocking him. The order had come from Magnus over the phone. If anyone was independently speaking with Wexford, they weren’t admitting to it.

The relief he felt when Magnus walked into the room was a near-physical thing. She handed Kate the special Super-Abnormal weapon and removed a tactical vest and her side arm. Kate took those to the armory. Helen placed her hand on Will's shoulder and squeezed.

"Everyone," she said, stepping into the pickup area of the monitors. "Maria sends her regards and thanks you for your support." She nodded at Declan and Pili. "Your teams were key in our success. Thank you."

Will stepped back and ran a hand through his hair and over the back of his neck. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Kate came downstairs the next morning, and she brought backup. She planted herself between Magnus, Will and the bank of monitors. "You. Bed." She ordered, looking from one to the other. "Now," she added when they didn't move.

"Kate, while I appreciate —"

"No. Bed. Now. You'll go or I'll have Biggie here pick you up and carry you there."

Will and Magnus frowned. Her Old Friend crossed his arms over his chest and gave her a very stern look.

"Kate," Will said.

Kate gave him an even look. "I'm armed."

"Kate —"

"Nope. I even got Henry to take a nap. Tesla is back and babysitting the computers. Biggie and I got some shut eye so we'll hold the fort until you get some rest. The Feds are coming back this afternoon. Do either of you really want to have those conversations when you’re sleep deprived?"

Helen put a hand on Will's shoulder. "Perhaps a few hours rest would be beneficial. Everyone else has taken a break," she indicated the now silent monitors.

Will sagged like a deflated balloon. He nodded and trudged off toward the elevator. Helen handed her computer to Kate and smiled at her Old Friend. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble, please wake me two hours before our guests are to arrive? I'd like some time to freshen up and eat."

They both nodded and Kate made a little shooing motion with her bad arm. "If either of us finds you're awake before four, we're drugging you." She smiled sweetly, but Helen could tell she was serious. There was concern under the bravado. Touched, Helen smiled warmly at her, and then did as she was told and went to bed.

* * *

Agent David Simms and his team arrived precisely on time. He appeared to be less distant than their first meeting, but he still wore professionalism like armor. Agent Angela Coulton, she noticed, didn't shake hands. Her expression was one of sympathy and she nodded politely to the group. Nikola whisked Baxter off almost as soon as the man had arrived. Helen was confident that Nikola could keep the man out of their network, and out of Henry's hair, until things were more secure. Agent Abigail Corrigan smiled cheerfully and seemed to be the happiest to be back, though Helen wasn't sure how much of that was curiosity and how much of that was Will.

"Dr. Magnus, my colleague and I have some questions for you, and your second. Agent Baxter has already gone with one of your technical advisors. Abby?"

Abby nodded and stepped up to Will with a notebook. "Is there a conference room or —?"

Will looked her way and Helen nodded. "The southeast sitting room should be free at this hour." Looking a little anxious, Will turned to Abby with a professional smile and escorted her away.

"Shall we go to my office?" Helen asked.

"Please," Simms said, indicating she should lead.

Helen led the way and watched the agents out of the corner of her eye. Simms looked around with seeming curiosity, though the intensity was far from casual. Will examined things like that, and if this agent was half as perceptive as Will was, she would need to tread carefully until she knew his ideology and orders better. A small frown had begun to form on Coulton's face. Helen caught the full effect as she held the door to her office open. It wasn't angry, which she supposed was good, but it was concerned. Simms seemed to notice too and the two agents exchanged a few brief words she couldn't catch. Helen took the opportunity to text her Old Friend to ask him to bring coffee and tea. They seated themselves around the coffee table and Helen asked.

"How bad was it?" Simms asked without preamble.

"I'm sorry?" The forward question caught Helen off guard, though she scolded herself for being surprised. Perhaps she needed more sleep… and a vacation. A _long_ vacation.

"You said one of your network locations was hit by this terrorist organization. One in Brazil, I believe?"

"I can't help but notice that everything seems much more subdued around here," Coulton said.

Helen weighed how much she could, or should, say. "Rio was attacked," she said. "In this case, a mercenary force was contracted by this organization. We know they were involved because they have a special operative they frequently send against us. This operative was rendered unconscious, but they sent in a special extraction team. They were positively identified as being Cabal forces."

"Tell us about this Cabal," Simms directed.

Helen bristled for a moment, but forced herself to become calm. Lashing out wouldn't help. She took a moment to gather her thoughts.

"It sounds like something out of a bad movie or perhaps a conspiracy theory, but I assure you they are very real." She took a breath and let it out slowly. "You've seen the beings here?"

"Bigfoot was quite pleasant to converse with," Agent Coulton said with a hint of a smile.

Helen's lips quirked. "He can be a bit gruff but he's a gentle soul." She continued, "The Cabal is an organization that seeks to profit from abnormals, and unlike my own, they don't particularly care who they hurt or how they achieve their goals. They have the money and the power to cover their misdeeds. Speaking as a scientist, I find their methods to be highly unethical at best." She forced the fist that had formed to relax. "Dr. Zimmerman can personally attest to their unsanctioned human experimentation. My Old Friend was infected by a virus of their making which nearly killed him. They are responsible for the assassination of a colleague of mine in Indonesia." Helen swallowed. "They killed my daughter."

Coulton rocked back a little, as if she'd be socked in the gut. Helen caught the movement out of the corner of her eye and studied the agent thoughtfully. She composed herself quickly, but Helen saw the fist she was making around her pen.

Simms clicked his pen. "Let's start at the beginning then. When did you first come into contact with them?"

"It was by accident," Helen said, watching them both carefully. She was being studied too, she knew. They appeared sympathetic, and though Helen was loath to place herself in debt to any government or agency, allies were few and far between these days. "We were investigating rumors in Scotland. It was supposed to be a routine trip, but it became anything but... "

Helen watched Simms as she recounted their first exposure to the Cabal, when she, Ashley, and Will had discovered the Morrigan. Simms in turn checked with Agent Coulton's reaction every so often. At first Helen wondered if perhaps she was new and he was unsure about his rookie, but then Helen realized that wasn't the case. Helen switched her focus to Coulton. She was very good at keeping her face neutral but there were small signs beneath the surface, easier to see if one were looking for them.

As Helen's story came to the part where Ashley had died, Helen noticed the Agent seemed to be fighting back tears. Helen herself felt that way.

"Perhaps we should take a break," she indicated the coffee and tea that had been left.

Coulton got up and paced to the shuttered window without a word. Helen let out a breath and faced Simms.

"She's an empath."

* * *

Steve was up and about for an early dinner. He nodded at Will politely as he carried his plate of burritos and bag of funions. Chuck followed with cups and a bottle of soda. One of the satyrs trailed behind, carefully balancing a plate of nachos. They looked a bit determined. Will realized they were likely going to watch something together and had decided they'd have a normal evening despite the chaos. Abby watched them with round eyes. 

"So, you all seem to be taking this rather well," Will remarked as they continued down the hall. 

"It's a lot," Abby admitted. "Uhm, before, you talked about this stuff. Back at Quantico, I mean."

Will nodded. "Yeah. Got me kicked out of the Bureau, but I ended up here." He shrugged a shoulder. "I think I can do a lot of good here." And in learning the truth, he had settled some very old fears.

"What do you do here?"

"Same thing I used to do. Profile cases for Dr. Magnus and evaluate patients. There's some conflict resolution and occasionally a little bit of counseling."

"Sounds like you keep busy."

Will chuckled and held the door open for her. "Well you'll find that Magnus has us all wear a lot of different hats. I'm nowhere near as good as A – as good as she is in the field, but I like to think I get by."

"You paused there a moment." Abby took a seat and smiled pleasantly, waiting for him to fill in the details.

Will knew that smile. He used it often enough. Will sighed and sat in the opposite seat. "I was going to say I wasn't as good as Ash in the field. Ashley was Dr. Magnus' daughter." He nodded towards the outside wall. "The people we're in conflict now —"

"The Cabal, you called them."

"Yeah. They killed Ashley."

"Killed her?" Abby blinked. "Was this reported?"

Will winced and rubbed the back of his head. "It's a little more complicated than a simple murder, but that's essentially what they did." He and Magnus had discussed what they would and would not say. Now that the FBI was involved it was better to deal with it as best as they could and be up front about certain aspects. Magnus reasoned it might keep them from becoming too nosey.

"Maybe you should explain," she said, eyes narrowing slightly. She wasn't looking at him the same way anymore. Maybe she hadn't been the whole time and the good-natured cheer had been a front. In either case, Will needed to say something before she got the wrong idea.

"If you look her up, you'll find that Dr. Magnus has started the procedure for having her declared missing as a precursor for having her... for having her legally declared dead."

"But you said they killed —"

Will held up a hand. "I did. Just let me explain. It's complicated, remember?"

Abby settled back a little and made a little gesture for him to continue.

Will took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then he told her the whole story of the Cabal, starting with his experience as a hulked out prize fighter and then their larger attack. He explained about the virus, but avoided calling it "biological warfare", because that was a buzzword that could kick over a hornet's nest they wanted no part of. He explained that in an effort to gather more information on how to counteract the virus, Ashley and Henry had been captured, tortured, and allowed to escape so Ashley could somehow be recalled after stealing valuable Sanctuary secrets.

"I don't know exactly what they did to her," Will said, looking into the distance just off Abby's shoulder. "I've been trying to decide if it was hypnosis, or something I haven't ever seen before, or if they had some kind of abnormal controlling her like a puppet."

"You don't think she would have gone over on her own then?"

"No.” There was no doubt on that. “Never. Not Ashley. Speaking as one professional to another, that's just not in her profile. There was some external factor at work."

Abby nodded. "Okay. What then?"

"We saw her six weeks later and she was... Different. I wasn't even sure any of Ashley was left. They did a lot to her." Will grimaced. "You've seen the studies of people captured by cults or the kids taken in by armies or gangs? It was worse than that. No recognition, no reaction, no personality. Just her orders. I have never seen brainwashing like that, Abby. It was like someone had taken this energetic, brash, impulsive, funny kid, and replaced her with a focused attack dog."

"Dr. Magnus' daughter?"

Will nodded. "And that wasn't the worst."

Abby blanched. "It wasn't?"

Will shook his head. He told her briefly about what they'd done to the others who'd been kidnapped. He paused then told her about the attacks on the other Sanctuaries, leaving out the teleporting and the word "Vampire." because that would just derail the conversation.

"They attacked London and... We tried to stop them by luring them into a trap." Will rubbed his hands together.

"She died there?"

"No."

"You lost someone else there."

Will looked up at her. "We lost a lot of good people there," he correctly, voice gentle. He took a minute to study his hands, regain composure and think about what he'd say next. He knew he was being studied and that she could read between the lines about as well as he could. He didn't care. It felt good to share the secrets with someone else.

"They were able to escape London, but we took some heavy casualties. A good friend of mine was killed trying to buy the rest of us time to set up for them." He let out a shaky breath. He couldn’t quite bring himself to say Clara’s name out loud, even if talking about everything was helping him immensely. "We came home and then they attacked us here, thinking they could kill the whole network if they won. They almost did."

He explained the events of that day briefly, before coming to the end of Ashley's life. "We have an energy shield around the Sanctuary. It prevents certain dangerous abnormals from getting in or out. Ashley regained enough control she was able to drag another victim through this shield before she lost control again and killed her own mother." Will looked up at Abby. "There wasn't a body to bury."

Abby swallowed and nodded. "And Magnus had already reported her missing, hoping the regular authorities could help you search for her."

Will nodded, looking at his hands again. "They killed her. She wouldn't have done any of those things willingly, and when she was able to fight off control, she eliminated the threat to her family. _That's_ the Ashley Magnus I knew, not the automaton. It – She sacrificed herself for the good of others, but she wouldn't have been in that situation if the Cabal hadn't left her no other choice."

A moment of reflective silence fell between them. Will couldn't help but recall all the other casualties of the war since its beginning.

"Dr. Magnus must have taken her daughter's death very hard."

Will's lips thinned. He nodded. "It hurt. She didn't get much time to grieve before our facility in Berlin was firebombed." He looked up at her. "But as much as she'd love to see these people go down, it's not her white whale. She's devastated, what parent wouldn't be? But she's resolved to make sure that everyone else is safe." He shrugged a shoulder. "I think it's what Ash would have wanted. Yeah," he chuckled, "She would have kicked some ass too, but only so far as it made sure her family was safe."

"What's happened since then?" she asked.

Will rubbed at his eyes. "Oh, what hasn't happened?"

"Just start with what happened next."

Will gave her a wry look. "You're playing therapist?"

Abby shrugged a shoulder. "Maybe a little. You look like you need to talk about it all and I get the full and complete profile."

"You still think we're a danger to the country?"

Abby shook her head. "No. Dr. Magnus is in good standing and the word from on high was to check the situation out. If someone in her network cried wolf, well, there's probably some kind of wolf there."

"Really?"

"You're surprised?" She frowned a little. "And suspicious."

"You don't know the year we've had."

Abby flipped to a new page in her notebook. "So tell me."

Will thought for a moment, then nodded. "If it helps us get some breathing room." He blew out a breath. "So, that blitz attack shocked everyone. Ash… Ash hauled the operative with her into the shield. The explosion... "

"What happened after that?" Abby asked, prompting him to move forward in his narrative.

Will winced, remembering Magnus crying. She never cried, at least not so openly. Like seeing a parent cry, it was upsetting on a fundamental level. He was fairly numb to it now, but the incoherent loss still made his insides twist. 

"Will?"

"Their last operative escaped."

* * *


	2. Luminous Beings

#### Some time ago... 

**_She knows what she has to do. Ashley takes the hand of the other operative and draws her into the nebulous space between._ **

It hurts.

She feels like she's being forced through a fine razor-wire mesh by a rushing river. She loses her grip on Anya in the maelstrom and for a timeless moment they are two entities against this painful surface. Then the other woman is pulled away. Ashley reaches for her, but she's beyond her grasp. She cannot go back, she can only go forward. It's painful, but Ashley presses on, finding a way through.

Like being swept through a white water rapid then launched off a cliff, there is suddenly nothing around her. The barrier is gone and the absence of pressure makes it hard to remain coherent. She is everywhere and nowhere at once and it takes all of her focus to remain as she is, wherever that might be. Ashley is vaguely aware of things flowing around her; bright spots that light/heat like small suns, currents that flow with energy. At least, this is how she comprehends the new sensations. They're familiar, now that she can see them for more than a half instant. She's passed them between locations. Is that where she is now? In the between places?

She fights to remain whole, though she can feel herself drifting apart, drifting away, fading. She must fight though. It’s what she's good at. She doesn't want that last, sad look to be the final time she sees her mother. If she can go back, her mother can fix things, fix what the Cabal did to her. She's so tired, though. She wonders if she's dying or if she's already dead.

It's exhausting to be here, like treading water in an ocean and she's not sure where the shoreline is. It's very lonely. She's afraid.

Holding herself together is like trying to hold sand. Little bits escape from between her fingers, parts blow away. She holds on as tightly as she can, because she's too stubborn to give up. Maybe she'll drift into reality if she waits long enough.

Maybe her mother will even welcome her home.

She aches. She not sure how without a body, but she does. The bright large things sweep closer. Or perhaps it's one thing? Maybe two. Three? She feels herself slipping and blocks them out, holding on to what remains. It's like looking directly at the sun with her eyes closed. 

She's Ashley Magnus, and she's going to fight the void. She's too stubborn to give in. She's too afraid to give in. She wants more than this. She wants to go home. She clutches the memory of her name, the smiles of her family, the last time she was home. If the void wants her, it will have to tear her apart, piece by piece.

It's suddenly easier to hold together. The... other. It's another something, she realizes. She's surrounded by it – not covered but more like it has circled her. It reminds her of her mother. It feels old. She clings to herself, because she can't do anything else. There are pieces of her scattered around. Eventually, she feels brave enough and strong enough to do more than cling to her identity. She "reaches" for one and collects it back. It's a painfully slow process, but she's helped by the whatever; it is blocking the ebb and flow of the Between. Ashley thinks gratitude at it, hoping it gets the message.

She almost bursts apart when it answers, the power vibrating through her like an earthquake. If she could, she’d scream from the pain of it.

Ashley holds tightly to herself. This creature is huge and old and powerful. She swam with a blue whale once, thanks to her mother's connections. It was huge, yet graceful. She'd never encountered something so large and so peaceful. She's seen the giant sequoias and stood under them, touched the ancient bark.

This is humbling like that. Ashley feels very small.

The currents change and there is more of her. She collects the pieces under the guidance of the huge whatever it is. And it is giving her guidance. There aren't words, but there are feelings. Patience. Ashley is reminded to be strong, to fight. She's been told that before... some-when. She's tired, but she feels more coherent, more cohesive, as if she could fall back to earth if only she remembered how.

She thanks the creature for helping her, wincing for the shock of the inevitable response.

The creature seems to have learned. Acknowledgement comes as a soft wave. Strong, but not violent as before. It "leaves" though not really. She can still feel it, like a heavy weight on a trampoline. Yet, it isn't surrounding her as before.

Still, Ashley must tread. She treads for an eternity, unsure what to do or where to go. She keeps an iron grip on herself, on her being, yet all she wants is to fall asleep in her bed. The void seems to be more distinct now. Less all encompassing nothingness with rivers of energy, and more like... Like nothing she's seen really. One moment it's like she's floating in water, the next, suspended in a great web.

The great creature flows closer to her again. She wonders if this is the Almighty, except the creature is curious and according to many religions she should be known. Something new, then.

At a loss of what to do, she introduces herself, because it's polite as much as she's unsure of what to do next and perhaps she can get help. She's lost and very, very tired, and could really use some help getting back to reality if she's not dead. The messages are not distinct words or thoughts but they are both.

There is silence from the creature as it waits for an explanation of how she came to be here. It wants to know everything, curious, but also authoritative in a way. It’s so much like her mother that she feels amusement, though recalling her recent past hurts like a physical pain. It's strange because she doesn't feel like she has a body.

Ashley tells the creature the story. The whole story. Or at least what she can remember. Recalling what happened feels like she's traveling through the mesh of fire again. So many dead because she couldn't fight through the programming soon enough. The idle thought of just letting go and dispersing into the void is a momentary temptation, but she holds onto her self. She's Ashley Magnus, and she's not going to give up. Ashley wants her family again.

Ashley tells of Henry, the secret crush and the deep love for her friend. She can almost feel an echo of him too. Will was new, but he was a good guy. She can feel him connecting to her mother, to Henry, to Biggie, who taught her to ride bikes and how to track. Biggie tried to teach her of the interconnectedness of things. This is like that, like she can see the web.

She thinks of her father. His lines of connection are like blazing fire. Sadness, regret, fierce joy, passion and anger. So much passion. So much anger. Ashley has a moment of sudden understanding as she knows these feelings all so well. There is a miasma around him, dulling him in a way. It is evil and she recoils.

Finally, she recalls her mother. There were so many moments of joy in her life. She recalls trying on the jewelry before her mother went to some fancy function or other. She heard stories of her grandmother and great-grandmother, who'd died more than a century before she'd been born. They'd owned the pieces before her mother, and her mother had given some to her, had promised others.

She remembers the teaching trips, the exploration of the world, and the thrill of hunting together, of discovery, of that wonderful feeling when they helped someone else. There were bad times as well, such as the incredible feeling of betrayal when she learned of her father and what her mother had kept from her... Ashley hopes her mother didn't think she willingly abandoned them all. She didn't like her mother occasionally, but she'd never stopped loving her, would never have willingly betrayed her.

"Ashley."

She can almost hear her mother's voice and she wants more than anything to go home to her. Her mother was passionate and impulsive, but had lived long enough she was more temperate. She had insatiable curiosity and she'd encouraged Ashley to be whatever and whoever she was supposed to be.

In all, her life was wonderful and she wishes to return, to live up to who she could have been, to make amends for what she's been forced to do.

She feels... whole. Collected. The void is all encompassing around her and all that she has to lose is clear. Suddenly she's afraid. How does she get out? She feels herself shifting, moving, is terrified. She tries to escape but the void pulls at her. It is once more a violent maelstrom. It tugs at her, trying to rip her apart.

_Drift._

The thought is clear, carried with the weight of knowing, but she'll disappear into the darkness if she doesn't fight! The void tugs her along, away from the home she's always known. Currents or forces or something. Had she already been sliding away and not noticed? She's not sure, but she's afraid she'll lose herself again.

_Drift._

She holds herself together, trying to force her way back through sheer will. She feels pressed against razor wire once more.

**_All will be well. All is. Drift._**

She's reached the end of her energy. She has so little left and must choose. The entity was kind to her before. Perhaps it will help her now. Or at least make it painless.

Ashley holds herself still, and Flows...

* * *

The void, she realizes, isn't.

It's like the night sky. There are countless stars, but they can't be seen if the light pollution is too great, or even if the moon is very full. She feels like her "eyes" have adjusted to the low light. Maybe this is what eternity looks like. She goes with it, flows with it, lets herself be moved. All is brightness, like rivers of auroras, always moving, ever changing and yet there are constant connections creating a network. It's vast, incomprehensibly vast, and she feels anxious when confronted with it.

**_It is rather large, but it does not mean you are worthless. Come._**

The huge entity flows among the impressions of stars and she follows. Flowing is easier than standing still, she realizes. At first she flows in its wake, like jet-skiing. Then she experiments, going outside and around, darting between other rifts and streams. She finds her way. There are rifts and eddies and even some maelstroms she knows she shouldn't pass through. There is malice there and she's tired of that. There are sparse places and full places but she doesn't "slow". She just flows around, like weaving through cars on her bike, or past lumbering opponents. It isn't like flying or swimming but it is like that as well. She begins to master how to move, how to stop, how to change direction though those two are much harder than to just flow.

**_Let it move you_** The entity instructs.

Ashley considers that. Let it move her? What if she wants to go in another direction? What if she comes across something flowing the other way? She has a moment of insight and wonders "what if I thought the flow was going in a different direction?" and suddenly she's being moved there. It's a different way to think about things. It's much easier to envision the current is changing rather than fighting for control. She swoops around, trying to make what she feels is a loop, letting the void move her, rather than move in the void. Or is she moving the void? It seems almost to be one in the same. 

_There is no spoon,_ she thinks with laughter, recalling seeing The Matrix with Henry more than twenty times in theaters, because it had everything they both loved. In any case, it's actually kinda fun. The entity shifts somehow, showing her a new technique and she follows an eternal second later.

"Fun, hmm?"

She's suddenly in a marble room. The floor is white veined with grey, as are the columns. It's vaguely Greek, she thinks. The room is circular, open to the elements on most sides. A door is cut into a mountain top to one side. Bright, wintry sunlight streams in and all around her is a vista of snow-capped mountains, but it isn't cold. She's surprised to find she has a body again and she laughs, touching her arms, her face. She's in reality again!

"Technically you have a body, Little Warrior. Here, all is what we wish it to be."

She whirls around. The speaker looks like a man, a native of South America, but his eyebrows and beard are feathery. She's fairly certain he's actually the huge... being she was talking to just before. He isn't much taller than Henry, but his presence fills the space.

He smiles, showing impossibly white teeth that give the impression of sharpness, though they look normal. She takes a half step back instinctively. He laughs, a deep, earthy round that rolls around in her head like distant thunder. He gestures and there are seats – simple wood and leather stools.

"I'm not back in... reality?" It doesn't feel real, now that she really focuses. It's fuzzy, like a dream.

"Please, have a seat."

She watches him take one then sits down across from him. "Where am I?" she asks, looking around. She doesn't recognize the mountains, but then they are rather high up and her perspective is unusual.

"This place has many names and descriptions. The space between spaces. The energy field of the world. The Dreaming. The Everywhen. The Void. Akasha. The Aether. It is consciousness without feature, without end, luminous all around. " He doesn't quite look South American anymore. Maybe Mediterranean?

Ashley looks around. "Feels kinda solid for Aether."

The man laughs again. "It is as we wish it to be."

Ashley purses her lips, fearing the answer but needing to know anyway. "Am I dead?"

"Not in the sense you would be familiar with." He looks more aboriginal now.

"What about in the senses I'm not familiar with?"

He laughs again. "A good question."

"Look, I appreciate everything you did helping me," she looks for the words and finally decides on, "helping me be me. What's going on though? Am... " She feels a frisson of cold terror. "Am I stuck mid-teleport?"

"In a manner of speaking. You managed to survive teleporting out of your natural timeline."

"What?"

"It is an unusual ability." There is suddenly a small fire pit and a pot sits above the flames. He pours two cups and she can smell chocolate and coffee.

"What? And I'm pretty sure you weren't rocking the Eric the Red look half a second ago – did you just shift again on purpose?" she asks the man, who once again looks dark and decidedly not european-bred. Ashley narrows her eyes. He smiles and hands her a cup. She accepts it with a nod of thanks. It tastes like coffee and chocolate and warms her.

"I shall remain in this avatar, then." He inclines his head with a small smile. He gestures around. "This place is a confluence, a shared Dreaming, where those of us who can navigate the energy of the world may meet. It is largely unknown to the younger races, but every so often one of them stumbles upon us. Most cannot survive the void, fewer learn to navigate it. Your gift has become very rare."

"Thank you for saving me."

"I didn't save you. You did that yourself. I merely showed you the way."

"Well, thank you for teaching me then. May I go home? Can I go home?"

"Not yet. There are lessons you must learn in order to leave. The pieces of your psyche that are missing must be reclaimed."

"Okay. What if I don't?"

"You will go mad. Probably. Sometimes the mind doesn't reform, becoming a fractured shadow of what once was." He shrugs a shoulder. "The kinder fate in that case would be if you simply died."

Ashley frowns and sips the warm drink. The mocha is a damn good representation even if it doesn't actually exist. "Okay, how do I avoid that?"

"It will be difficult and take time. Knowledge changes a person. Exposure to the truth of things will change your very Soul. If you intend to return, know you will not be the same as you were even if you reclaim all."

Ashley reflects on that for a moment. "Will I be evil or something?"

He chuckles and refills her mug. "No. Merely a bit more enlightened than if you had not come to this place. You will be on a new path and unable to return to your old one."

"As long as I go home, that's okay then. I have to go back. I can do it. Just tell me what I need to do."

He laughs once more. "We shall see."

Ashley scowls. "Who are you anyway?"

The old man smiles, his grin growing larger, his face elongating. It pushes out into a serpentine shape, molding like wet clay, and begins to grow in size. Ashley stands up and takes a few steps back as the massive head on the thick neck rises above her. Her jaw drops as it continues to grow and change, resolving finally into a serpent the size of a freight train. His iridescent scales gleam, the ones on his head forming a thick ruff. Or maybe they are feathers? Plumage decorates the blunt snout forming a short feathery beard of sorts. Feathery barbels sprout above, giving the impression of a moustache..

The vision serpent leans down to look at her.

"You're a lot bigger than I expected."

She feels the impression of laughter. **_You are not the first to say that._**

Ashley smiles. "What do I call you?"

**I am known by many names.**

"But which one do you want me to call you by? "Hey" or "Snake-guy" are a little rude." She smirks. "Mom did teach me manners."

**Kukulkan, then, Little Warrior.**

She supposes she can live with the nickname. She is much smaller than he is, and it’s not such a bad one, really. "So what do I do?" She feels energized, either by the metaphoric coffee, or because she can finally _do_ something.

**First, you must go walkabout. You must seek understanding.**

"Bring it." Ashley squares her shoulders, ready to face whatever she needs to do. 

The huge serpent bows his head, prism-like scales casting a rainbow of light across the stone. He opens his mouth and mist flows outwards and along the ground. It coalesces in front of her and Ashley watches the mist take the shape of a man. She remembers reading about this in the mythology of someplace or other, but the details are vague. The mist is grey and shapeless, but light seems to come from within. A shadow starts in the center of the mist-man and grows, as if someone is walking closer. The shadow matches the shape of the mist and abruptly disperses, revealing James Watson.

"Hello, Ashley."

* * *

Ashley paused a stunned moment before rushing over to hug him. "Uncle James!" He felt real under her fingers, vital. But something was amiss and she stepped back, studying him from head to toe. He was wearing a well tailored shirt and slacks. His hair perfect, his beard neatly trimmed. He was not wearing his metal suit.

James enfolded her in a hug, laughing. "Hello, my dear."

Ashley felt a lump in her throat as she hugged him. He felt more a part of this place than she did . And then she realized, she _knew_ , he was no longer alive. "You —" She choked up.

"No, no tears, Ashley. Not for me."

"But —"

"I Am," he said, tilting her head up with a gentle finger on her chin. "I Was. I will always Be." He took a handkerchief and dabbed at her tears with a gentle, patient smile. He folded her fingers over the fine linen and offered his elbow.

Ashley took it, standing close to him. It'd been so long since she'd had an ally she knew well. Maybe. Time was... weird. "What do you mean? What is this place, really?"

"I believe you were told some of it by our rather large serpentine friend?"

"He said it was the energy of the world. The space between spaces. What does that even mean?"

James laughed, the warmth resonating around them, as comforting as the coffee was. She knew that laugh, remembered it well. It resonated the feeling of home and a life well-lived.

"The Every-When is all times, all places, all existence. It is the life and energy of the universe, the network of connection that binds everything together and the spark of creation. It is the hidden fabric of reality. It is from this source we come from, born into the world of this energy, always a part of it." He patted her hand. "And when our bodies die, we are in this place still. There is no Was or Will Be. All Is."

"But... So I'm here. Am I dead too? He… he didn't really answer me —"

James cut her off with a gentle finger on her nose. "You are not dead as you would think of it. You are Between."

She shivered, trying to wrap her mind around the concept.

"Try not to think too hard on it. The key to the Dreaming is to simply Be." He rested his head against hers. "Your mother taught you to think-"

"Yeah and I listened so well, look where that got me."

James laughed. "Let go. What has happened has happened. Dwelling cannot change things and will only make you unhappy."

Ashley sighed. "I… "

"Ashley... "

"Yes, Uncle James."

"Good girl. Now. Your mother taught you to think creatively. Let it move you. When the Dreaming flows through us, we flow through it."

"What does _that_ mean?"

James chuckled. "That is what you're here to learn, Ashley. What do you think?"

"The... moving around before we came here. It was easier to flow with the current. So... like that?"

James nodded, giving her shoulders a squeeze. "That's exactly right." He cast a hand out into space and the gesture illuminated a web-work of shining strands, dots, rivers and auras. "That is everything."

"It's all twisted together."

James gave her a fond smile. "Yes." He held her hands. "You can find me because of the connections we forged in life, but it isn't impossible to find those we haven't met and navigate the Dreaming. Everything is connected."

"Biggie talks like that."

"He's not incorrect."

"So... If that's everything, then that's... I could see the future? It's all set?"

"Well, you might assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint - it's more like a big ball of wibbly wobbly, time-y wimey. stuff."

Ashley did a double take then pinched the bridge of her nose. James continued to smile softly with that infuriating good cheer he always had when he was pulling someone's leg.

"If a Scotsman shows up with a sonic screwdriver..."

James chuckled and patted her hand. "I shall endeavor to be more serious, but the Doctor's writers weren't entirely wrong. To answer your question, you can see things which _might_ exist one day. Each new choice makes something new, but it begins here, made out of the same energy as everything else. When such things appear is not predetermined."

Ashley rested her head against James' shoulder and studied the energy. It moved, flowed, changed. It was like a web-work tree, or pictures of neurons from one of her mother's medical texts, or a fractal. If she focused on a part, there was more, similar, complex and infinite.

"You're okay, right?"

"I am at peace," he told her. " _You_ must find inner peace."

"To get out of here?"

"In part. I'm afraid you got your passion and impulsiveness in equal measure from both of your parents," he chuckled. "You must learn to be patient," He tapped her nose lightly, much as he'd always done when she was a child.

She batted his hand away and gave him a wry smile. "In other words, I shouldn't go jumping off cliffs, huh, Uncle Jimmy?"

James roared with laughter, though Ashley wasn't sure the joke was that funny. "Quite right, my dear. Quite right." He rested his forehead against hers. "I have faith you will learn and grow."

He stepped back and removed an antique pocket watch from his waistcoat. "Take this. When you think on it, remember me and what we learned together. Remember that we're always connected. Then _live_."

The watch was warm in her palm. It was a representation of the watch James had had since his school days with her mom. The warmth in the center of her palm spread outwards in a ripple, down her arm and into her chest. It glowed like a star then sank into her hand, fading. The image was gone but she could feel the weight of the symbolism in her mind. She felt better.

Uncle James brushed a thumb over her cheek. 

**The first step has been taken. Come with me.**

Ashley grinned back at James. "Seeya later, Uncle Jimmy." Turning, she walked away, letting her feet take her where they might. "What's next?" she asked, knowing Kukulkan was there.

He slithered out of the mists on a soft rasp of scales over stone. She felt the impression of chuckling in her head.

**_Now, you become a Dreamwalker, Little Warrior._**

* * *

Ashley appeared in the Jedi Temple. That was pretty cool. She wondered what had prompted this as a setting. She felt at her side and found a lightsaber.

"Oh, sweet!"

She found the control and the blade snapped to life with a hum. Purple. Awesome. She was the new Mace Windu! And if she had a Jedi's blade... She did a trial hop, using the Force to carry her. She tried a few bladed forms with the weapon, gleefully twisting and parrying with iconic weapon. Henry would have loved this! Maybe he was in Biggie's dream too.

**This one knows much of Dreamwalking.** the voice of Kukulkan whispered in her mind. Ash wasn't very surprised. This seemed like something up Biggie's alley.

_Starting me off easy? _Ashley thought back.__

**Yes.**

_Fair enough._

**A Walker must tread lightly in a personal Dreaming or they will disrupt it, like fallen leaves disturb calm water.**

_Poetic._

**I think so. The metaphor is still valid. You are entirely in the Dreaming. A trained mind will cast you out and those ripples will have a greater effect.**

_Deadly?_

**Possibly. It is disorienting.**

_Right, and I'm free soloing El Capitan. Gotcha._ She couldn't afford to be scattered now.

The world serpent laughed at her metaphor. **There is much to learn from where the subconscious mind meets the soul,** he said, then fell silent. Ashley followed along, listening to what he had to say. She had no control over this world, and it was somewhat terrifying to be at anyone's mercy, even Biggie's.

There were times when she felt as if Biggie knew it was really her there, and times when he didn't think it was her. The tacit instruction was to become part of the dream, indistinguishable from what his mind created.

She was supposed to learn something here, or re-gather part of her psyche. Something. It was likely she was here for some important lesson or reason. The holocron was therefore the obvious representation, like James' watch had been. Ashley wanted to hurry up and find it so she could move on to the next task and come home. Being near Biggie... It made her feel homesick.

He wanted to sit though. So she did, though she wasn't happy about it because she wanted to move onward! She sat and contemplated the beautiful image his mind had created. It was peaceful.

_Inner peace, huh, Uncle Jimmy?_ Ashley thought towards Watson. She got no response but there was a warm tingling feeling, like the watch. She let out a breath. Patience. Ashley frowned. She didn't have the best track record there.

"Ashley?"

"Hmm?"

"We tried to find you."

Ashley felt her heart leap to her throat. She'd thought they would have, had never really doubted it, but it was good to hear it from someone else.

"I know," she finally said. She looked back at him. He looked sad and it hurt that her being gone was causing him that pain. What was her mother going through? "Biggie?"

"Hmm?"

"Is... Is Mom okay?" It seemed to be okay to ask that. He'd addressed her directly.

"She misses you. We all do."

"I… I'm sorry I pushed for Henry and me to go on that mission."

"I think they would have just tried something else."

She shrugged a shoulder. "Still. Not looking before I leaped got me into trouble, again." Patience again.

"If you were still alive, I would have told you to be more careful, but I wouldn't have been angry. Things were rather desperate at the time. You're... You were still learning."

Still alive? They thought she was dead? Ashley felt terror claw at her. Biggie wasn't looking at her, so he missed her trying to force it all down and away. Focus. Peace. Patience. She was here to learn and he'd likely be the easiest teacher. If she wanted any hope of coming home, she needed to discover what lessons these dreams could teach. Ashley let out a shaky breath, and asked, "What would you have taught me?"

She listened and it was hard to hear. The pain flowed out of him in tangible waves. It was old and dull, but it was there. It resonated with her more fresh wounds, the results of her captivity. He'd learned to deal with them over a lifetime. They were part of him but they didn't control him or even define him. 

Uncle James had told her to just let go of such things. Biggie reinforced the point. It was awful but maybe she had to let it go. Mom had a Latin saying like that, one she trotted out when someone died. Had she used that on Ashley?

Ashley took another breath and tried to order her thoughts. What was, was. Face it and move on. Be. Bit by bit, she tried to let it go. She wasn't sure she quite got it all, but she felt lighter, the wound less searing. It was still there, but it was dulled for now. A bright star of warmth appeared before her; the little holocron image.

Ashley plucked the small star out of the air. It hovered over her hand. Time to move on. She thanked Biggie, and because she couldn't leave without saying something, she asked him to take care of Mom.

She left the dream, flowing away from the bit of Everything that was Biggie and back into the space Between.

* * *

She was surprised to find herself in Will's dream next. She was a little worried about how much time had passed, and was still passing, but she couldn't focus on that. She had her mission.

Will's Dreamspace was a lot like him;. Everything Will focused on was more clearer than the rest of the world. He was calm and analytical, but he had a, well, she decided it was a whimsical streak. She'd been dressed as a femme fatale. So had all the other women who'd appeared, actually.

She'd been a little confused by the Indian woman who'd shown up, but she'd gathered that she was someone real that Will now saw on a regular basis. She'd been some kind of thief or con-artist because Will's Dreaming had an omnipresent monologue only she seemed to be able to hear. It directed Ashley to plant this "Kate" person in the opposing Mafia as an agent. She was snarky and seemed to be both capable and deadly.

Ashley gathered she now worked for her mother, which meant that this woman's real-life counterpart was probably doing the same thing. Ashley wasn't sure how she felt about that. Will seemed to think they would get along, so in the Dream they did, but...

From Will, she learned her family would always stick by one another, even if it changed. Or that was what his subconscious was trying to tell her. Probably. It certainly seemed like something _he_ had learned, and she was happy with that. Will was a good guy, and she was glad he was there for her mom, even if he still had a ton to learn. If New Girl could shoot as well in real life as Will's subconscious seemed to think she could then maybe she felt a little bit better. It sounded like they needed the extra firepower, if what she could determine was happening in the real world was as bad as it seemed.

* * *

She wondered if she'd entered her mother's dream next. She was somehow sure she was in a representation of London. Dreams were weird; there was this sort of overriding recognition when she touched someone else's Dreamscape. It was very much like Deja Vu. Sometimes the impressions lasted, other times they faded quickly like, well, like a dream.

London, she knew, had never looked like this. It was white like an architect's model, with everything made of clean lines and shades of white with the occasional cool grey. The people looked like white on white mannequins. Even the garbage collected in corners was pristine. Ashley slowly turned around. She was the only bit of color in this world. There were no modern buildings. Just as she knew she was in London, she knew she was on the East End. Whitechapel.

There was a bright splash of red on the ground, the only other color in the world.

Definitely _not_ her mother's dream, then.

She felt eyes on her and whirled around. Druitt was there. Her father. He wore period appropriate clothing and... "You have hair."

His guarded expression warmed and one hand went to touched the dark hair at his temple. "So I do."

"So was the bald thing because of the teleporting or did you just decide to cut it all off."

He regarded her for a moment. "It began to grow in silver-white so I cut it. I am unsure if it was due to the teleporting or your mother's blood."

"Silver-white."

He nodded.

"So you cut it."

"While some might prefer the Celeborn look, I do not."

Ashley arched an eyebrow, mildly surprised with the Tolkien reference. She still felt the feeling of eyes on her back, but looking around, she saw no one else. Druitt seemed to feel the same thing, but knew more than she. "Come," he said, beckoning her away. "It's not safe."

Ashley hesitated then followed him. "What's going on?"

"There are demons hunting the streets."

"Demons."

He nodded. "Mine," he paused and looked askance at her, "and yours, I'm sorry to say."

Of course. Wonderful.

It took a little convincing, but after seeing further bloodstains, ones that did not match the Whitechapel murders in location and which dwarfed them in scale, her father relented. They broke into the representation of the Sanctuary and armed themselves. Then they went hunting.

Her demon looked like her right down to the makeup the crazy scientist bitch had lovingly applied to Ashley's face before unleashing her on the world. Except Ashley was pretty sure she didn't have horns or eyes with literal flames spilling from them. Druitt's demon was like an evil shadow, the kind you'd see in cartoons, flat from every angle and usually appearing on walls or the ground.

They fought a moving battle across London. Mannequin-like people fell before the demons creating splashes of color in the stark world. The demons bled inky black when they were injured.

The fighting was hard and exhausting. Ashley and her father didn't speak much, instead going about their grim work, hunting their inner demons. Her father's subconscious was... not what she expected, she realized. She didn't have much time to reflect on him, though.

In the London Underground, Ashley managed to cleave the arm of her demon clean off. The black blood sucked in on itself, forming into a little clear gem. Druitt gave her a fierce grin as he beat back his own demon, giving her the room to finish hers if she could .Ashley knew the gem was what she'd been looking for and swiped it up. The tunnel around them shuddered with the weight and noise of an oncoming train.

"I have to go!" she called out, parrying the raking claws of her demon with the shotgun she carried. She fired her weapon until it clicked empty. The demon staggered back, bleeding inky blood and glaring at her balefully. "Before the train, I have to go!"

Druitt nodded. "I'll hold them off."

She ran down the platform, the ground under her feet shaking. She raced ahead and suddenly was outside of the Dreaming. She staggered a step or two in the formless mist.

**_That was dramatic._ ** The serpent slid out of the mist.

"Yeah, no kidding," she said, catching her breath. "What's next?"

* * *

She was a warrior in fantasy armor. Will was some kind of cleric. Kate wore cuirboilli and had a lot of knives, so Ashley guessed she was a rogue. The armor, cutlery and seedy tavern meant this was probably Henry's dream. He showed up a moment later wearing...

"A robe and Wizard hat?" she asked, amused.

"Hey, don't knock it when I am CCing your... mobs." Henry stopped in the doorway and stared at her, his jaw open a little. The expression on his face made her heart jump to her throat. _"Ash..."_

"Hey," she greeted, trying to keep her voice neutral, least she disturb him.

She didn't expect him to rush over and give her a bear hug, high fantasy armor and all. He drew her off the high barstool and kept repeating her name over and over. Ashley wasn't sure what to do, so she hugged him back.

"You just saw her five minutes ago," Kate drawled. "Come on. We have ogres to kill, and money to be made." She got up from the table, a crossbow resting on one shoulder.

"Right. Yes. Adventure." He grinned at her then the whole of his party before his eyes came back to Ashley. "Let's go."

Ashley smiled. "Sounds like fun."

The Dream had them on a quest for a powerful magical artifact being protected by a band of ogres. Kate in this place was a bit more cutthroat and mercenary than she'd been in Will's dream. She and Henry spent a lot of time bickering. Will and she spent a lot of time rolling their eyes.

Eventually they found the ogres and began to clear their way toward the goal. It was very game-like and there wasn't much blood or guts when Ashley hit things with her swords or when Kate stabbed them or when Henry blasted them with fire. The bodies fell to the ground and faded out. Ashley was grateful for that. It was nice not to have real violence surrounding her for once. The details were already fading but Druitt's dream had left the impression of being very... graphic.

The ogre chief had a shtick attack, but they were able to beat it, grab their loot and head home. Kate scored a new pair of boots. It was kind of relaxing, actually, but Ashley wondered, a little, what she was supposed to learn here. Henry rode on some sort of giant attack bird with a bad attitude, beside Ashley. She was riding some kind of amped up warhorse unicorn thing. The forest arched overhead in colors that were too vibrant for reality. They returned the artifact to the quest-giver, her mother. They were then informed they'd done the maximum number of daily quests and had to wait.

Will and Kate had wandered off, the latter grumbling, leaving Henry and Ashley in a weird sort of magical tower. Unsure what else to do, she followed Henry down into the street. He turned to her with a mischievous grin. "Wanna do a side quest?" Ashley found herself grinning.

The side quest ended up being a long slog through a dungeon with very angry elemental creatures. They nearly died a few times, and actually did die and had to run, laughing, back to their corpses from the re-spawn point. It was like old times when they were kids: comforting and fun. They blasted their way through on sheer damage-dealing prowess and finally took down the boss. Henry picked up their loot and handed it to Ashley.

"Epic level sword," he said with a low whistle. He handed it to her. "Your loot."

Ashley took it with a smile and did a practice swing. It was at least as tall as she was, and inscribed with glowing runes. She grinned at Henry. "You gonna enchant it for me?"

He smiled, but it wasn't as enthusiastic as before. It was a little sad. "Yeah, Ash. Sure."

She settled the weapon at her side and touched his shoulder. "Hey. You okay?"

He studied her face for awhile then placed a hand on one arm, then the other, stepping in close.

"Henry, what —"

He kissed her, shocking her into silence. She blinked at him when he drew back. "H- Henry?"

"I'm sorry, Ash." He rested his forehead against hers. "I'm sorry I never told you. I'm sorry I waited too long. I'm sorry I didn't get you out of there in time."

An invisible hand was squeezing her heart. "Henry?"

He sighed. "I loved you, Ash."

She was choking. He loved her? But – What? How? When? He'd never said anything! The Dream faded around her and she was left sputtering.

"Uncool!" she finally yelled into the mist.

**Hmm?**

"Did you make him say that?"

The serpent gave her a look.

She rolled her eyes and looked away. "That was a weird dream."

**It was the secret truth of his heart.**

She winced. . "But —" she froze, her eyes wide as the words clicked. "I'm not supposed to know this! That was a secret!" She felt sick. Confused, maybe elated, terrified, but mostly sick. Henry wouldn't have told her that! She wished he would have but... But it was a confession he didn't know he was making. Ashley pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. Henry loved her, she could feel the truth of it, the kiss had softly burned into her lips, warming her all over. Yet still, she wasn't supposed to know this.

**I think you've learned two important things.**

"How to betray your best friend by prying into their innermost thoughts and going for a stroll through them?"

The serpent made a musing sound. **Rather, Dreams are secrets of the heart and soul, and that you may be privy to such things if you go Walking. It is both the great danger and great temptation. What you do with that knowledge will define who you truly are.**

Ashley groaned. "Can I forget? Some of the other details are just gone... Will I forget?" She wasn't sure she wanted to, though she knew it wasn't right for her to have heard this secret. She'd hurt her family so much already, she didn't want to add to it.

The serpent let out a long breath. **Sometimes, if you try very hard, you can forget such things. Thoughts, feelings, and ideas that involve you, will be much harder to erase. They're powerful.** He peered at her with one huge eye. **Do you honestly want to forget?**

Ashley looked at him then away. She could still feel the tingle of his lips on hers, like something heavily spiced. The burn was slow and lingering, but not unpleasant. The giddy warmth in her chest was tempered with guilt, but it was still there, fluttering. "No," she admitted at length. "But that doesn't make it right." She looked up at him, neck craning a bit. "What was the other thing I learned?"

**That you are loved.**

* * *

She was in London again. The servants moved around the home with quiet efficiency, ignoring Ashley. She twisted and adjusted the restrictive period clothing. The corset was already digging into her hips. 

A young girl with curly blonde hair hurried past her, muddy footsteps showing that she hadn't quite cleaned off her shoes. Ashley followed her. She paused at the doorway. Her mother was there. This was her Dreaming. The younger Helen ran over to a woman Ashley had only ever seen in tin prints and one self portrait. Her grandmother.

She stood quietly, watching her mother's memory play out, studying her mom as a child and her grandmother. Ashley had never heard her voice, she realized suddenly. She listened as Patricia began to quiz her mother.

"You did that with me, too."

Her mother turned quickly in her peripheral vision.

"Ashley."

Ashley looked up. "You quizzed me. I just realized it now. Sneaky." She winked, and to cover how shaken she was by the look on her mother's face, she knelt by her mother and grandmother. This... This was something that would probably never happen again. Her mother as a child was a surprise. Few pictures of her at this age had survived the years, but Ashley knew her mother. Her grandmother on the other hand was a different, terrifying and exciting unknown. Ashley made a comment about her mother's hair, then turned her attention to the grandmother she never would have met, because she'd died so young.

Patricia had high cheekbones and laugh lines. Her eyes were the same as her mother's. They had the same chin. Her hair was fair, nearly the same shade as Ashley's, though there were the beginnings of white threaded through. It was half pulled up with informal, easy elegance. It was mostly straight but there was a little wave at the end. Her mother's hair had become like that as she'd aged, given the riot of curls the younger Helen sported. Ashley had styled her differently because she'd hated being compared to the great and powerful Helen Magnus who had a century of practice being the perfect woman, strong and elegant. It felt very stupid to have done that now.

Ashley hadn't wanted to look at her mother, sure she'd break down and disrupt the Dreaming, but she needed to see her, to connect. Ashley looked up at her mother and hoped she wouldn't break down. "My hair is like hers. If I don't blow-dry it straight, I mean. Kinda wavy at the end."

Ashley turned her attention back to her grandmother after the short exchange and Patricia looked at her. Not through her as the other memories had, but _at Ashley_. She smiled and Ashley felt she couldn't breathe. It was her mother's smile. It was hers. _She was here._ Like Uncle James had been, she was here. Her grandmother touched her cheek and she felt solid, like James. This was _her_. Ashley tilted her head into the palm on her cheek very slightly. She smelled like flowers and pastels.

"Hello, Ashley."

Her heart leaped to her throat, because this could never have happened in reality. Ashley had only known her from stories and a few well loved artifacts. She was afraid to move.

Patricia's thumb stroked over Ashley's cheek as she smiled, eyes filled with pride and love. "Helen, she's beautiful."

Ashley found herself in an abrupt hug. Her mother felt indistinct, like she did, but so warm and so much like home. She was crying, though she didn't appear to be aware of it. Ashley stroked her back, and feeling a renewed sense of determination, promised her it would be okay. She _would_ go home.

Her mother and grandmother had a moment then her grandmother turned her attention back to Ashley. Ashley found herself straightening her shoulders, correcting her posture.

Patricia took Ashley's hands in both of her own. "You have much ahead of you."

That was an understatement. "Yeah." She took a deep breath and let it out. "Yeah I'm kinda getting that." The spirit of her grandmother appeared to be as fully aware of things as James had been.

Patricia grinned and shook her hands lightly. "You can do it. You come from a long line of fighters." Her expression turned wry and she added, "Though, I think you might be the most literal."

Ashley laughed a little and nodded. It felt good to laugh, though she mourned never having known this vibrant woman. Even if she'd not been frozen she'd never have known her and that was a very sad thing. There was, however, an odd peace in this meeting, in knowing that part of her lived on in her mother and in herself. 

"You were born at the right time," Patricia said, perhaps seeing the direction of Ashley's thoughts. She winked. "And I'm glad to know you can do more than just stick figures."

Ashley stifled a giggle. It wasn't a hobby she often indulged in when there were adventures to be had and monsters to fight and creatures to protect. Her mother had always been pleased, had encouraged her, had implied it was a connection to Patricia for both of them. Ashley hadn't embraced it fully because of rather silly reasons she regretted now.

Patricia reached up and took off her necklace. It was simple gold with sapphires and it had been her grandmother and mother's favorite necklace. She put it around Ashley's neck and adjusted it slightly. "This is all I can give you. Remember to be strong. Remember to think before you leap." She took Ashley's hands again and shook them. "Remember to find the beauty in things, Ashley."

Ashley looked up, a little startled. She'd said something similar to Henry when he'd been contemplating surgery. It was a closely guarded secret of her own heart, because arms dealers and ghouls with teeth couldn't ever see softness. Her world was gunmetal, leather and often violence and she liked it but... It wasn't everything she liked. It wasn't the whole of her world. She'd try harder to remember that.

Nodding, she realized that their time together was coming to an end. That too was sad, but this moment had been a gift.

The image changed and Ashley was stunned to hear it was her birthday. That had been months away when she'd been taken, the better part of the year. She fought off panic at never going home, at being stuck forever in this limbo, at leaving her mother so sad. So much time wasted...

"You were so wonderful. Did I squander that?"

Ashley's head snapped up. "No!" Hell no. It hadn't been perfect but it had been _fun_ and yeah, maybe they could have done some things better in the future, but no way would Ashley have changed their lives.

She needed her mother to fight because she was coming home. The need to return blazed in her heart. Her mother looked so tired, but she needed to continue. Needed to undo everything she'd done and been forced to do, needed to embrace things she'd pushed away, needed to live and love and be there. It wouldn't be the same but...

It wouldn't be the same.

She'd not thought of that, not really. Kukulkan had said this would change her soul. Before she'd come here, she'd... there were fractured memories and they were all horrifying. She'd been changed by the Cabal. Used by them to do terrible things. She felt her stomach drop. Would they even let her back or would they kill her on sight?

"I know it will be okay," Helen said, eyes lifting to the partial roof of the old cathedral. "I know it will. It's hard to remember that sometimes." She looked at Ashley. "You were the most wonderful thing to ever happen to me."

Ashley's answering smile was watery. She didn't want to ask if the answer was no, but she needed to know. "They made me do things. Could… Could I even have come home?" Tears fell as her mother answered.

Helen brushed her cheek with the kerchief Patricia had handed to her. "You'd always have been welcome home." She folded Ashley's hands around the fabric. "Always."

The feeling of relief was like being hit by an ocean wave, it touched her from head to toe, body and soul, engulfing her. A fist she hadn't even realized was present, unclenched from around her heart. 

"Thank you." She sighed shakily. "I think I'm okay now," she said, addressing the Vision Serpent she knew was watching just beyond the borders of this Dreaming. Freed from her biggest fear, she felt like she could fly.

"It'll be okay, Mom," she reassured, the kerchief igniting in her palm. The warmth and energy flowed back into her, making her feel more complete than she'd felt in a long time. She left the Dreaming as smoothly as she knew how, and reappeared on the mountain top, staggering a step. The kerchief she held in her hands was like a miniature star. Tendrils of light flowed off of it in some unseen wind, fractals unfolding on the invisible breeze. She held the star to her chest and it flowed back into her until all that was left was the calm, secure feeling of being hugged by her mother. She smiled to herself. She could do this. She would do this.

Ashley opened her eyes and Kukulkan was back in his human guise, sipping a Starbucks venti iced coffee with a ton of whipped cream and caramel drizzle on top. He looked her up and down and arched an eyebrow. "I think you're getting the hang of this."

She grinned back at him fiercely, showing her teeth. "Let's do this."

* * *

The world was on fire.

Ashley stood on top of the Sanctuary's battlement. Hot wind filled with ash rose from the warzone below, her hair whipping around her head. There were barricades around the Sanctuary, but the eastern wall had a breach. They were holding the line right now, but it was a near thing. Ashley let out a long breath as she surveyed what was left of Old City. There were scorch marks, and collapsed walls, piles of rubble and burning refuse. The river was clogged with debris. 

Across the battlefield was a mockery of her home. The soaring cathedral was twice as high, constructed not out of stone, but iron and something else that was black and shiny, too matte to be obsidian. Squatting like some kind of angry beetle, the hellish light of the fires made its dominance of the landscape look almost aggressive. Pervading everything was a sound-track of discordant heavy metal. The screams of the damned and the dying rose on the hot air, punctuated by war-cries and guitar riffs.

Ashley had no idea whose dream this was, but they dreamt with a soundtrack in 5.1 surround sound.

The soldiers fighting wore World War II uniforms with both modern and archaic armor and weaponry. Many were human. Many were abnormals. They all worked with grim, nearly mechanical determination.

The swarm they faced were humanoid, but not any Abnormals she'd ever met. At first Ashley thought they were teams of humans in riot gear. As she watched, she realized though that their armor was heavy chitinous plating that grew from their bodies in a surreal approximation of riot gear. They fought with a frenzied chaotic fervor, wielding claw-like hands and heavy, organic looking guns that spat shells of acid.

Whoever's dream this was, they had a vivid imagination too.

"Blondie!"

Ashley turned. The new girl, Kate Freelander, stood at the door. 

"Boss is calling a meeting. Come on!" She disappeared into the Sanctuary and Ashley left the battlement.

Cigar smoke filled the rafters of her mother's office. It was taller than she remembered, the windows oddly stretched out of proportion and not quite square. Will stood in the corner sporting a post-apocalyptic mullet and a week's worth of beard, all of which matched his _Road Warrior_ look. Henry wore a white leather labcoat and huge, over-sized goggles on his head. Biggie was even bigger with a biker-style motorcycle vest with spikes on the shoulders, his beard braided with a leather cord. Tesla was dressed like Henry, only he managed to look more crazed. His hair was fluffy in it's electrical spikiness. Freelander wore a hundred beaded bracelets on her arms. She had a cropped tanktop in navy and a long sleeved, black fishnet shirt. Dark jeans with a wide belt completed the look. Her mother wore a long white leather duster and a matching military hat. Both had a sort of World War II vintage feel to their styling. The powersuit underneath was modern and expensive looking, but she wore it like armor. There was a disturbing amount of cleavage Ashley didn't want to contemplate further. For some reason she had a monocle, and clenched between her teeth was a fat cigar.

Helen nodded to her, businesslike, and began the briefing, the cigar still clenched between her teeth. Ashley frowned through most of it. The Cabal were attacking and their leaders were in that parody Sanctuary. They had Elite Attack Forces and Ashley and Kate were to go out as the point of a strike team and defeat them once and for all. The way they spoke about the goal, Ashley knew something big was coming. The situation was dire and the enemy was chipping away at them bit by bit. The tension on everyone's face was very real and Ashley knew that the situation in the real world wasn't much better. She needed to get the heck out of here and back into the real world, and to do that, she needed to face this next test.

They were in the back of a cargo plane. How they got there, Ashley wasn't sure, but they were on their way to the drop point. The cargo plane brought back vague memories of doing this before. She shuddered.

Will called from the pilot's seat, letting them know their drop point was coming up. The others would begin their ground assault while Kate and Ashley would go in and take out the control center.

She checked her weapons. She had the bastard sword from Henry's dream strapped to one hip. Her coat was her favorite motorcycle jacket made into a duster with pauldrons. She had her prized gold Jericho in her holster, and an M-16 on her back. The long leather gloves were buckled on and only left her thumb and index finger were covered. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail, similar but not exactly like what the Cabal had made her wear.

She looked out the open cargo doors. They were flying over the ruins of Old City. Everything was burning. She lifted her eyes to the Cabal's Sanctuary and knew, somehow, that there was something in there that she'd have to face.

Kate kept giving her sideways glances. "What?" Ashley asked. 

"You sure you can do this, Blondie?"

Ashley looked at their target. "I need to," she answered.

Kate regarded her for a long moment before nodding. She stood, weapon in hand, and passed Ashley a zip line. "Let's do this thing, then."

Ashley wrapped her hand around her zipline and Kate did the same. Kate grinned at her. "Last one down buys victory drinks!" She hurled herself into space. Ashley followed a second later.

They cut a swath through the Cabal forces as they made their way to the center. The soldiers became more inhuman the closer to the center they got. Finally they were faced with a simple, steel door. Ashley kicked it down. It fell into the room beyond in one piece. Ashley hadn't expected that to happen, but then this wasn't her dream. It was Kate's.

That was odd, but, she had to admit, this was a lot of fun. She shrugged at Kate as the dust from the toppled door settled. Kate let out a low whistle. Ashley took point as they entered the room, Kate following close behind. 

At first glance the room appeared to be empty. Then static crackled on unseen speakers and classical music began to play. Ashley froze. Kate bumped into her.

"Hey!"

Suddenly, this wasn't fun anymore.

"Blondie?"

She couldn't move. That music! She knew that music. Bad things happened when that music was playing. Pain happened... Then she would begin living nightmares.

Kate punched her in the shoulder. Ashley whipped around, gun pointed between Kate's eyes. Kate froze, hands in the air, eyes crossed to focus on the muzzle of the golden gun. Then she looked at Ashley. She nudged the gun away from her face with two fingers. "Hey?"

Ashley blinked and hurriedly moved the gun away from Kate, but didn't put it away. "She's here." Her voice was unsteady, fear gnawing at her heart. She took a step back so she was beside Kate, her side physically covered from who was in the shadows.

"Who?"

"Oh, dear! You've come back!"

Ashley shuddered in fear and revulsion. How could she be here? This was Kate's dream... Wasn't it? 

Kate's gun came up. "Might as well give up!"

The woman walked out of the shadows in time with the music. Her hair was red and she wore a lab coat. She looked human. She smiled but it didn't reach her eyes. They were empty of emotion. Ashley held her ground defiantly.

"Welcome home," the woman cooed. 

Ashley took a half step back. The woman pouted and walked further into the light. Her skin was pale chitin and gleamed with hard alien edges.

"Don't you want to come home to your moth —" Her head snapped back. A spray of black covered the wall and equipment behind the red-headed doctor. Her body swayed in slow motion, then crumpled like a marionette with the strings cut.

Kate lowered her gun, eyes on the corpse. "You okay?"

Ashley let out a shuddering little laugh. She half expected the body to rise up and terrorize her, but it didn't move. Dead. The monstrous woman was dead. "Yes." She swallowed and tried again with more confidence, "Yes."

"Right." Kate took point and walked into the lab, headed for the opposite door.

Ashley still used Henry's sword to sever the head from the body as she walked past.

Kate merely nodded in approval.

Henry could stuff his objections, whatever they were; Ashley really liked this girl.

Half a hundred more alien troops, each less human than the last, and they were at the top of the cathedral. It was a huge, open, corporate-evil office as decorated by H.R. Geiger.

At the far end of the office was a very simple, modern desk. Behind the desk was a chair. The chair turned and Dana Whitcomb sat within it. Her eyes were black on black, and her skin was hard, sculpted chitin. So was her hair for that matter. She wore black leather with a white business suit, the opposite colors of her mother. She looked like some kind of Alien Barbie. She smiled, revealing sharp, translucent teeth.

"Freelander," she greeted. "I... _Dismissed_ the men who failed to kill you."

Kate glared.

"Ashley," Dana said, her voice warm and her tone familiar. Ashley wanted to throw up. "Don't you know you're already dead?"

"Say what?" Kate drawled the question. "'Cause Blondie looks pretty lively to me."

A shadow detached from the wall. Another Ashley, dressed as she'd been while under the Cabal's control, came to stand behind Whitcomb. Hard and alien with glowing red eyes, she held herself ready to leap out and attack, like a perfectly trained dog. 

"Right." Kate said. She gestured with her weapon from one woman to the other. "Your pick, Blondie. White meat or dark?"

"You shot her with a rocket launcher once," Ashley said. "Might as well let you finish the job."

Kate rolled her shoulder. "Right then."

The Other Ashley raced out. Kate's weapon fired. Ashley dodged a swipe of claws and went for Dana. The head of the cabal stood up from her desk, and kept going. She was huge bug-like creature with too many limbs under a human-looking body. Scythe-like limbs slashed at the air, too many for Ashley to dodge. She caught one in the shoulder and was flung back across the room. She got back to her feet and raced in to stop the Other Ashley from stabbing Kate. Kate shot over Ashley's shoulder and Whitcomb screeched, a sound like metal tearing.

Kate and Ashley fought for their lives. Whitcomb detached from the bloated lower body like the Queen from Aliens and began to chase them on foot. The Other Ashley wasn't especially creative in her tactics, but she was fast and vicious. Slowly they forced them back toward the end of the office, Ashley dealing mainly with Whitcomb, and Kate handling the Other Ashley. 

Whitcomb feigned and got around Ashley, the whip-like alien tail striking out and hitting Kate in the shoulder. Kate yelled, losing grip on her gun. She pulled the knife from the sheath on her leg and cut into the appendage. Ashley whirled and sliced down with her own blade. The tail was severed and Whitcomb screamed. Kate grabbed her gun and shot at her, unloading the weapon into Whitcomb. Ashley caught her doppelganger before she could kill Kate.

Ashley didn't want to touch the creature, didn't want to be near it at all. It was cold, alien, and made her feel sick to her stomach. It grinned at her with shark-like teeth and snapped at her face.

Whitcomb shoved Kate to one side. She fell against the wall, unconscious. She began to fade out of sight, but Ashley was too busy dealing with the new threats. The Other Ashley began to attack faster and it became harder to fend off the long claws.

"Give up," Whitcomb told her. "Give in. You'll never be accepted. Admit it. You liked what we made you do."

Ashley gritted her teeth. No. She didn't like it. 

"You know you did. You're a monster."

No. She wasn't.

"You were brought up to be one. You were _bred_ to be one. We merely perfected it. Give in."

Ashley tried to ignore the voice, but she'd had these fears even before she'd been taken. She threw the Other Ashley off and stepped back, breathing heavily. She bled from a dozen cuts and she was tired. The sword she'd been using was heavy in her hand. The sword she'd received from Henry's dream.

Ashley clutched the hilt more tightly. She could feel the weight of her other gifts, too. She wasn't alone. She'd be welcomed home by her family if she survived. All that stood between her and that, were these creatures. She wasn't sure what they were; fears or representations or even the Cabal influence that had been programmed into her. Whatever they were, they weren't going to keep her from going home.

"Just let go," Whitcomb said, her voice velvet and honeyed promises. "It's already over."

Ashley let the sword fall from her fingers. She could feel it clatter to the ground. She closed her eyes, breathing in then out, simply being. Patience. The Other Ashley rushed at her in silent fury. Ashley let her come, let the claws pierce her side, let her get closer. She grabbed the Other Ashley's jacket and brought up her Jericho. The golden gun flashed in the low lighting. Ashley looked into the doppelgangers eyes as she put the gun under the Other Ashley's chin. The black eyes went wide and she tried to push away, but Ashley was already pulling the trigger. She pulled it until the magazine was spent and the gun clicked empty. Ashley pushed the corpse away from her and faced Whitcomb, covered in black ichor.

Whitcomb reared up, body twisting and transforming from something mostly human into something far more centipede-like and alien. A scything claw came down and Ashley rolled to the side, anticipating the movements of her opponent. It was like a dance; a claw would come down and she would already be out of the way. She flowed forward, coming closer, dodging the increasingly desperate strikes. But there was only one way this would end. She jumped over the thrashing alien tail and rolled to her feet, holding her hand out into the air. The sword jumped from the ground, igniting into purple light, humming as it sliced through the air. She jumped and swept her arm up in an arc as she crossed over Whitcomb, landing on the other side in a crouch.

There was a horrible sound, like air being squeezed out of a wet balloon. There was a very large thump as the body hit the floor. Then there was silence. Ashley straightened, turned, and cut off the head entirely just to be sure. She eyed the body then decided to cut it in half and set the place on fire for good measure.

The sword turned back into slightly-purple, rune-etched metal. She rested it against her shoulder and walked out of the Cabal's Sanctuary with a bounce in her step. All around her the Cabal's troops were turning on one another or standing stupidly in place. The queen was dead and the hive was struck dumb. They were little more than animals.

"Well, that was dramatic," Kukulkan said. He stepped out of the fog wearing viking armor, though his features were still Native South American, a war axe over one shoulder. The fog cleared and she saw there was a pile of Cabal alien bug troopers taller than she was.

Ashley shrugged a shoulder. "Yeah, but I feel better." She did. She felt lighter, like she could fly if she wanted to. Heck, this was a dream, maybe she could.

He chuckled, speaking before she could test that theory. "The real person is still out there," he pointed out, tone serious.

"But she's not in here," Ashley said, pointing at her head. They stopped at the top of a small hill. The Sanctuary forces were cutting literal swaths through the Cabal Bug-troopers. "I'm pretty sure I killed it, whatever it was they put in me."

"That's not the end of your ordeal."

"No." She let out a long breath. Let go, Uncle James had said. It was scary, but she was loved. She had family. She'd be welcomed home, just as she was. "No, but it's a start." She smiled at him. "So what's next?"

"Well," he said, setting the weapon down and resting his hands on the hilt. They were once again in the high mountaintop meeting hall. "That all depends on you."


	3. Just Business

_New York, two days after the attack on Rio_

"What do you mean we're frozen?" Terrance Wexford loomed over his IT manager. The skinny man glared back at him, unimpressed.

"I meant exactly that. Our assets are frozen. Solid."

"Well write an ice pick program!"

Tom's eyes narrowed, his jaw setting. "You don't think I haven't tried?"

"I thought you said you were better than anyone else in the organization. How did they lock you out? We needed that funding." They were in the cave-like office the man, Tom, had claimed as his lair and seat of power over all things technical. Terrance found it too chilly and too dark for his tastes.

" _They_ didn't lock me out. That's what I am trying to tell you, but you're not listening. None of those two-bit script kiddies Magnus and Foss hired could have locked me out."

"Then what happened to the account?"

"Bureaucracy. I couldn't move it into the offshore account because you said it wasn't a priority. So I didn't. Now some high muckity-muck in our bank has decided to do an audit of the account. I need you to call them because they won't listen to me. Now, if you'd like me to pursue other means of acquiring our cash, we can talk, but you're the one who said you wanted this all above board." Tom's tone became something of a sneer, though it was only partially towards Terrance. The situation was infuriating and tempers were fraying.

Terrance rubbed at the bridge of his nose. Leaving the disaster area that was Helen Magnus should have alleviated these issues. He sighed and counted to five. It wasn't Tom's fault that the banks were fucking up.

"I'll give the bank a call. How are we otherwise?" Terrance said in a more mild tone.

Tom had been handling most of the money management. His secretary had left with Aaron and had helped several residents leave with them. He'd given the little empath a job and a place to live where she didn't have to be surrounded by normal humans who didn't understand her gift. They'd had a pleasant professional relationship he'd thought. Sophie's betrayal was yet another thing that wasn't going right.

Tom thought about that for a few minutes, becoming calmer as well. "We're okay. We're going to be tight for a bit. I've done some creative money work. Nothing strictly illegal. Nothing Wallstreet hasn't already done at least," he said, chuckling darkly, "but we're looking at some ramen dinners for a bit until this all shakes out."

"I want a list of options," Wexford said, forcing himself to continue the mild tone. It wasn't Tom's fault. It wasn't his fault. If anything, it was Magnus'. "Take an hour and put together a quick brief and I'll handle it."

Tom nodded once and turned to his task.

Terrance left the chilly office. The geek might be annoying, but he knew his business. It was best to let him operate on his own and not micromanage. Terrance straightened his coat and strode off to see what the bank had to say.

* * *

The path to the laboratory, like the rest of the building, was modern perfection, Dana Whitcomb reflected. Smooth white lines with recessed lighting were the unifying theme of the architecture. Simple. Elegant. The art was modern and complementary. Her staff worked with quiet efficiency. The organized hum of business surrounded her. 

She handed her secretary a file then dismissed the woman with a wave. Turning deeper into the facility, she continued her brisk business pace. Her meeting with the Board had gone well. Despite their loss of the principal asset and most of the derivatives, they still retained one Unit. Further, she'd successfully eliminated targets and her inspired change of tactic had resulted in a constant erosion of the Sanctuary's base of operations. She'd been given a mild slap on the wrist over the losses, but the Board had been pleased by the offsetting successes.

Stepping through the double doors, she nodded politely to the woman behind the reception desk, and the rather well armed men who flanked the door. She allowed her retina to be scanned and a small sample of blood was taken to prove she was indeed who she claimed to be. The secretary and guards relaxed marginally as the tests proved her identity positive. Dana knew that all three were excellent marksmen and were well paid to maintain their loyalty. Behind the desk the "receptionist" had a high caliber weapon pointed at whomever might fail the test.

The doors opened and she stepped through. Today had been a very good day. She hoped it would continue. Dana swiped her card in the door's security lock and reflected that it was fortunate she'd acquired profitable resources. She expected this meeting would be brief.

The remaining Unit, Zero-four, was currently strapped down on an inclined table. In early tests, the Units had a tendency to thrash about. She'd been informed that they apparently had retained the ability to dream. The research team's theory was that the spontaneous movements were the result of their unique physiology and the sometimes active nature of their missions. There was no chance that the remaining Unit would act without orders, but it simply wouldn't do for one of her valuable staff to be injured by a flailing arm tipped with claws. It certainly wouldn't do for the very valuable remaining Unit to injure itself.

"Ah, Dana, I was just typing up a report for you!"

Dr. Barbara McCarrey, the petite, red-headed lead researcher bustled around her work-station to greet Dana, tablet in hand. She'd been an associate researcher before Dana had recognized her brilliance and let her have a larger portion of the research budget and her own staff. It was amazing what a brilliant mind could do when given the proper room to grow. The head researcher occasionally was given to flights of fancy and eccentricity. Dana knew this and had procedures in place; what proper manager didn't know how their valued and brilliant employees worked? It was a minor flaw and in some cases made her a more valuable asset. Some scientists were hindered by restrictive ethics. It made conducting important business somewhat difficult. Dr. McCarrey could see the larger picture.

"Barbara," she greeted. "How is our asset this morning? Recovered from the operation in Brazil, I hope?" Brazil had been a mixed success. The presence of Helen Magnus' strike team, complete with battle-armored abnormals had been a surprise. While the armored humans had been a mild annoyance, it was the reappearance of the weapon which took out the other units, and the huge sphinxes which had tipped the balance.

"Oh, indeed. The new serum I developed from his altered blood caused him to recover at a phenomenal rate, even for his physiology. In all, this was a triumph. I've made a note: huge success!" she chirped, showing Dana a graph that peaked sharply. She made a little cooing noise as she touched the unit's hair, smoothing down a dark curl. "I expect that we will be up and functioning by dinner."

"Marvelous. Progress on the new acquisitions? How is your staff handling their processing?"

"Oh, you simply must see," she said, beckoning Dana over to a window. A light touch of a control and the window became transparent revealing four floors of storage units. The ones on the bottom were large and only a few held still bodies. They were smallest on the top. In the middle floors, humanoid shapes rested in suspension. A dedicated team in white suits quietly took readings and monitored activity. It was the picture of quiet, efficient, progress.

"We've nearly finished cataloguing the new collection acquisitions. A few proved too difficult to keep, so we had to terminate them. But never fear! We've got a team processing the autopsies! Not a single part will be wasted, I can assure you, Director," she informed cheerfully.

"We lost a few creatures from the Peru operation, but nothing that cannot be replaced and the remains have been put into long-term storage for safekeeping and study."

Dana nodded. It was just as well. Live subjects cut into her bottom line more than corpses did. The Board preferred to kill, but Dana knew there was more advantage in the live specimens.

"I would like you to explore Zero-Four's transport capabilities. Druitt showed he could move in excess of a ton multiple times. I expect to know the transport limit of our Unit."

"We can devise an experimentation schedule and have him ready for trials as soon as he wakes."

"No need to rush. I have plans for him first. Please continue your good work, Doctor. I'd like the Zero-Four prepped and ready for travel in the morning." She smiled. "We'll be taking a trip to the New York office."

* * *

Nikola strolled into her office with a bottle of red. The label was in Portuguese. Nikola arched an eyebrow, daring her to comment, as he poured two glasses. He offered one to her then poured a tumbler of brandy before sitting down. Helen arched a brow as she took a seat opposite her old friend. Nikola practically had taken residence in his half of the lab he now shared with Henry. If he was up and about then she could take a break as well.

"I figure Johnny-boy will be here any moment. He does tend to lurk around you a fair bit these days. Reminds me of old times.."

Helen rolled her eyes and sipped the wine which was, unsurprisingly, very good. "You owe Maria." With money as tight as it was, and the need for trust and goodwill holding even greater value, none of them could afford offenses. In the grand scheme of things it was small, but sometimes it was the smallest gestures which made the biggest impacts.

Tesla scoffed. "I believe she owes me."

Helen met his eyes with a flat glare. "I can tolerate you drinking my wine cellar dry, but I expect you'll show more courtesy to the other Heads of House in their own homes." She let some of the glare ease out of her expression. "It's a matter of simple respect." Unspoken was that she needed everyone working together.

Nikola held her gaze for a moment before sniffing. It was as much as an agreement as she was going to get from him, so she let it go. Nikola understood respect even if he ignored the niceties.

"How is your research coming?" she asked, changing the topic. They knew they could stop Mr. Wood with the weapon they'd developed, but there was only a single unit. For true protection, they needed more to be made and sent to the other Sanctuaries. Helen had also asked Nikola to look into reversing the process done to Mr. Wood. The man was as much a victim as anyone in this situation; helping him recover himself wouldn't just deprive the Cabal of a weapon, it was the right thing to do.

Nikola sighed and took a brief second to collect his thoughts. "The exact components I need aren't available. So unless you happen to have more genetic samples or perhaps a pint of Ashley's blood stored someplace...?"

Helen shook her head ruefully. "Not anymore." A unit she'd banked went into Ms. Freelander when she showed up on our doorstep. The last one was what you used in the weapon." Like John, Ashley had been part of group O-negative. Helen had her keep a couple units on hand at home. Kate had been injured badly enough that triage dictated one of Ashley's units be used. Helen still had most of the complex genetic and chemical components unique to her daughter but lacked a blood sample.

"Ah well. It would make the process easier." He shrugged a dismissive shoulder.

"It isn't impossible, I hope?" his genuinely lackadaisical response seemed to indicate it might be only a minor inconvenience.

"Not for me," he grinned at her. His eyebrows waggled with his customary arrogance. The familiar gesture brought the hint of a smile to her lips. Despite the changes and danger thrust upon them, it was nice to be able to count on some things; Nikola Tesla would always rise to a challenge with as much swagger and arrogance as tenacity and genius. It had annoyed her in the early days. How time changed a person...

John swept into the room. Nikola held up the glass of Brandy and John took it, downing it like a shot without breaking his stride as he made his way over to the cabinet with the rest of the bottle.

"Poor hunting?"

"Nikola," Helen warned. She didn't need them starting any spats in her office. She had enough headaches and their sparring was only mildly endearing when she was in the best of situations.

John glared as his sipped the brandy at a more sedate pace. "I located three new Cabal cells in Mexico City, but we only have to worry about two, now."

Helen's lips pressed into a line.

"Oh, so you _have_ been busy," Nikola commented. He sounded more eager than teasing.

John's smile was icy. Helen's stomach dropped. That smile had left her waking in a cold sweat some nights.

She cleared her throat. "I certainly hope you haven't been taking unnecessary risks." She couldn't afford to lose John too. Aside from the strategic advantage he gave them, like Nikola, John was family. Despite their history, or perhaps because of it, she would loathe to see him taken. Helen didn't want anyone else to suffer at the hands of the Cabal if she could help it, and that included John, rages and all. Too many had been lost.

John pulled out a data drive from his coat pocket. It was charred and blackened. "This was the least damaged thing I could find. Perhaps there is something useful you or Mr. Foss could pull from it."

Nikola accepted the unit between pinched fingers. His lip curled in distaste. 

John finished his brandy and set the glass down.

"Not so fast," Nikola said, standing in John's way as he moved to take his leave.

Helen stood as well, but Nikola had spoken first. At least she had an ally in this-

"You're not leaving without me. Give me five minutes to sic Foss on this new bone." He waggled the burned hard-drive in his hand.

John nodded. "Be quick. I'd prefer to strike while we still have a good idea about where they are."

"Agreed," Nikola said, not looking up as he snapped a cell-phone photo of the hard drive. "Let me whistle for the Wolf, and we can be off." He tapped off a quick message, presumably to Henry.

Helen rounded on them both. "No."

John's neutral expression darkened. "If they gain a foothold we'll never be rid of them. We should strike now while they're still weak in the region."

"We're still weak after New York," Helen countered. She looked evenly from one to the other. 

"If I might speak for Johnny boy, he isn't your personal Fed-ex man."

"I need to have you both on hand for the moment. We are still experiencing the fallout from Wexford's...decision to separate." She held up a hand in an appeasing gesture. "At least for now. We're trying to contact some of the refugees and it is more important for us to assist them than it is to strike out without a plan. Make a workable plan and watch how the situation unfolds."

Nikola looked surly but rolled his eyes and sighed. "As you like."

John nodded the tension in his shoulders easing a fraction. "Anything more than a day and we will lose momentum."

"A day could mean lives we save," Helen said, gentling her tone.  
John nodded stiffly, downed the rest of his drink then left. Nikola smirked after him then left with the bottle of wine.

Helen sighed into the empty office. Her cellphone rang. Helen glanced at the caller-id then answered the call. "Maria."

"This has been a very interesting week."

"If you're referring to John’s —"

"No."

Helen sighed. Blunt as ever. It was becoming a little comforting. Maria continued. "Or more accurately, he was one component. You are familiar with one of my residents? Xilo?"

Helen paused in her slow pace around the office. "Yes. Has something happened?" She touched the pendant she wore. The metal was warm under her fingers.

"She was summoned by her Elders."

"Elders?"

"The governing body of her people. A small group of fairly well armed men, four abnormals, two humans, collected her. They were quite professional. Not perhaps as polished as Declan's friends but organized."

"Is she well?"

"A bit put out, but otherwise fine. Lucas would know more about this specific group than I. Xilo was familiar with the men or I would not have allowed her to leave. Two of her escorts have stayed behind at her request. Fortunately they didn't need the help. There was a confrontation at the small airport they were attempting to fly from."

"The Cabal."

"We suspect. The gentlemen were rather capable with the weapons they carried."

"And two stayed? They're friendly? That is interesting," Helen mused, putting the pieces together.

Helen could hear Maria's smile. She imagined the pointed teeth were gleaming. "You see the opportunity."

Helen was certainly beginning to understand. "Well, if they can handle modern weapons and don't care for the Cabal, then it's worth asking if they'd be willing to lend us a hand. How are they doing?"

"They have integrated well enough with our guards. I gather they are used to hunting drug-lords, though I don't know precisely where in Mexico they are from. I will look into possible alliances."

"Please do."

"Have you heard from Lucas?"

"He and Javier are working on a plan for the San Diego area." Helen paused then gave in to the impish feeling and added, "Javier sends his regards."

Maria growled softly. 

Helen continued as if she hadn't heard. "As I imagined he would, he has declined the offer to become Head of House in the area."

Maria snorted, amused. "So you will offer it to Aaron."

"That was in fact the plan," Helen smirked to herself. "If the other Heads approve the nomination." 

She wasn't sure she would have considered him prior to Maria's insistence he be considered for the London position. However time had given her some perspective on the matter. While it was still true that Declan was the best choice for London, Aaron Eschel wasn't a bad choice for a new house. He'd also be a different sort of head; one who understood military and para-military operations, one who knew how to equip fighters, and one who could get his people out of the fire. Declan and she were thus far the only ones with much experience in those fields, and having someone else who understood what they needed would help her make the best decisions.

There were two revelations here, Helen realized. The first perhaps Aaron was someone she needed at a higher level than he was currently comfortable with, and the second was Maria had possibly seen this before Helen had. Given the were-jaguar's typical blunt gruffness, it was easy to dismiss her as simply being difficult. Helen certainly wouldn't be so dismissive again.

"They will make the confirmation. I will contact you when I know more about the men from the Elders' Village." She paused a second then added, "It occurs to me Xilo might know more about your mystery abnormal. Perhaps you should ask her about it when she returns." Predictably, Maria hung up.

Helen looked out her window, surprised for half an instant that it was so dark, then she remembered it was still shuttered with heavy metal. No windows in the Sanctuary had yet been replaced with high quality bulletproof glass, and until she was certain she could offer safety to her residents and staff, she wouldn't invite trouble.

Was she doing just that by investigating the abnormal man? She hadn't seen him since the assault on Rio, but then she'd gone weeks between sightings before. Helen looked around her office, half expecting to see the abnomal, but he wasn't there.


	4. Escapes and Responsibilities

* * *

Will met Abby at the front door. She smiled, a true smile that touched her eyes. God, but it was nice to see someone genuinely happy for once.

"Hi!" Abby gave him a bemused smile, and better, a coffee. "Glad I brought this. You look like you could use it."

Will sipped the coffee. "You're a goddess."

She winked. "Just buttering you up so you spill all the secrets."

He chuckled and gestured toward the hall. While the rest of her team worked on other aspects of the investigation, today he'd be taking her to meet some of the leaders of the various refugee groups. The agents didn't seem entirely sure how to handle the Sanctuary, but they were willing to learn. It was a relief not to have to fight someone for once. Sure, once the reports made their way upwards that might change, but this group, though cautious, were willing to observe and evaluate before they made their decisions.

"But seriously, are you okay, Will?" She frowned. "Something else didn't happen, right?"

"Thankfully no. It's just," he trailed off shaking his head. There was so much going on and he was tired. "Come on, let me show you around."

Abby met with the corvids and the satyrs and seemed to accept what she saw. Part of her observation was to make sure that no sort exploitation was occurring. It was silly, but then to an outsider, well, this could look like some kind of cult compound. Intellectually Will knew they were just dotting I's and crossing Ts, so he shoved his annoyance aside. The UN already did annual checks, so at least the FBI wasn't expecting or assuming they'd find anything. They'd lucked out.

Abby spoke at length with Sally about the mermaid's research on terrestrial humanoids and how safe she felt. Will explained that there was an escape plan for the mermaid, courtesy of Henry's ingenuity. In an emergency, she could access the river which flowed into the bay and get out to sea. Henry and Magnus had even made her some outer wear which would help her maintain her core temperature in the cold pacific northwestern waters. The debate on if that same escape could prove to be a liability continued until Henry came by and walked everyone through his seven or so invasion prevention measures. When he got to the zombie plan, Will called the meeting before it could devolve further.

They went upstairs around lunchtime. Biggie was playing the role of executive chef in his kitchen. Steve was a fair hand at cooking and had stepped up as sous chef to help provide the house with the now-common communal lunches and dinners. Today was a selection of sandwiches with some homemade bread, salad and soups. The main dining room, which had hardly been used when Will first arrived, was full to overflowing with people. It wasn't fancy, but it was good and there was enough for everyone. Their situation was serious, but Will couldn't help but feel buoyed by the spirit of hope that filled the lunch hour. 

Kate had Ralphie out on his leash and the kids were taking turns playing tug of war with an old rope. They were in the main lab, since outside was currently forbidden territory. Will and Abby stopped on the upper level and watched the steno drag a feathered kid laughing across the floor.

"When I first got this assignment, I didn't think I'd be having lunch with such a friendly group of monsters," she said, winking.

"We don't use that term here."

Abby arched a brow. "What, Sesame Street can reclaim the word, but you guys won't?"

Will frowned. "Well, it's kinda derogatory."

"And "Abnormal" isn't?" she pointed out, crossing her arms over her chest. 

It kinda reminded him of Ashley. Will had been surprised by the term when he'd first arrived. Ashley had rolled her eyes and commenting on "Victorians not being entirely PC." Will had come to adopt the term since everyone else used it and it wasn't a slur here. But... It wasn't perhaps the best term in the world.

"What?"

"Hmm?"

She tilted her head to one side in inquiry, her tone gentle and curious. "You had a thought just now. What was it?"

Will nodded. He rested his arms on the railing. Abby matched his pose. At length, Will said, "Just remembered I had that same thought when I showed up. Ashley said the same thing." Smiling he added, "Victorians weren't the most PC society, but that's what her mom used for a hundred years and she was stuck in her ways, so she told me to just go with it."

Abby laughed. "No, I suppose they weren't."

Will shrugged a shoulder. "So you satisfied we're not running a cult?" He gestured towards the kids. Biggie had found a sack and rigged up a harness around the wriggling Steno who was more than happy to play sled-dog as long as he got a treat. "Or running any abnormal sweat shops? Or building some sort of army?"

Abby nodded. "I'm not sure what Immigration would say for some of these... people. But I don't think they'd know what to do with them if my office _did_ turn them in, so you're secret is safe with me."

Will smiled. "Thanks."

"This can't continue forever though," she added, voice becoming serious. She put a gentle hand on his shoulder. It wasn't a threat, it was just a truthful observation.

Will found his smile wilting under the chilly reality. "Yeah." He nodded. "Yeah."

* * *

Sophie White, lately of the New York Sanctuary, sighed in relief as the doors of the gallery closed behind her. She'd initially resisted Aaron's suggestion-slash-order to take a couple hours and visit the museum, but he was right, she needed to get out of the hotel. She was accompanied by a couple of the residents and a few staff who hadn't yet been able to take a break either. As a group in such a public place, it was doubtful any of them would be harassed.

Art galleries, museums, churches, parks; anyplace people went relax quietly were places Sophie could go to get a second wind. Since she'd become aware of her abilities, she'd begun to develop them. It was useful and she felt better than she had in ages because she understood herself and that was very empowering. But there were downsides she had to mitigate as well. The cacophony of emotions around her could be very tiring, so soft, quiet places were oasis in the desert. After a few hours of peace and quiet in Art Institute of Chicago's Museum, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She stepped into the hall to answer it.

"Aaron?"

He chuckled. "You sound better." He had a pleasant accent, she'd decided. Born in Israel but having done much of his schooling in Scotland and England, his English had a slight Scottish burr. It was different, but nice.

She rolled her eyes. "Fine, you were right. Did you call to say I told you so?" she mused playfully. The others with her began to drift out of the gallery room, having noted her absence. The trial of the past few days had forged the group into a tight bunch. They were curious and mildly worried. She smiled and mouthed "Aaron", and the worried feelings faded again.

"Not quite. We can leave Chicago though. Round everyone up and head back. We're moving again in a few hours."

"You'll tell us where we're going when we get to the hotel?"

"Yes. Until we can get everyone new phones, I don't feel secure with these."

"Understood."

Sophie smiled at her companions, tired but not nearly as stressed as she'd been a few hours ago. "Time to hit the road again."

* * *

Aaron Eschel had witnessed a number of miraculous events in his lifetime; things he'd never had expected as a kid growing up in Jerusalem. He'd met and worked for Sherlock Holmes, and had hunted wights in the catacombs of Paris. In Cairo he'd smoked hookah with Sphinxes and had tea with Nagas in India. He'd chased Nikola Tesla out of the London Sanctuary's wine cellar, and hunted rabid werewolves in Romania. He'd been on every continent and had met incredible people and creatures. He'd never figured he would have to lead a caravan of those same creatures across the country like a fugitive while a faceless organization hunted them down.

He'd certainly never expected for those same refugees to sing showtunes through most of Kansas.

"Want me to take a turn driving?" Sophie asked. "You could borrow my iPod."

Yakob and Renee were starting into Rent again. They weren't bad singers, but God, he was so sick of Rent. At least it wasn't Cats. No wonder Damien had volunteered to drive the other van.

"I'm fine," Aaron said. "Besides, you should sleep. I want to drive straight through to San Diego." He wouldn't feel safe until they had a secure base of operations again. Not all of the residents they'd managed to help escape looked entirely human. It was frustrating for them to have to be hidden all the time, and it made everyone else nervous they'd be discovered and taken.

Sophie put a hand on his shoulder. "You got us out of there. No matter what happens, we're not stuck in New York."

He shot her a sad smile before returning his eyes to the road. "None of us would have been able to escape the lockdown if you hadn't tipped me off." 

Aaron had evaluated Terrence Wexford as per his orders. The man had a huge ego, but he was utterly convinced what he was doing was right. He liked power, but it didn't come from a place of malice that Aaron could see. That didn't make him any less wrong, though. Aaron had been wary Wexford would try something reckless, but he'd figured he could talk the New York head down off the ledge, that he'd have some warning.

They were a group of twenty residents and staff. Anyone who was mobile and willing to run, had left. There had been others who'd been unable or unwilling to get out. Others he hadn't even seen as he made his way out of the building. Damien, the staff chef, had rammed a Sanctuary van through the gates so their group could leave. It had triggered alarms and the local cops had been on the scene in minutes. They switched from rental vans to passenger vans in Pittsburgh, then again in Chicago in case they were being followed. Sophie's staff credit card had been shut off, Henry had been apologetic about that, but between everyone's personal accounts, they'd managed to rent enough vans. They were making good time, but this sort of stress could only go for so long before someone started to crack. Aaron wanted to get to San Diego before that happened.

He checked the GPS. They'd just passed Wichita, Kansas. The computer showed they had just under 24 hour to drive if they didn't stop. Aaron looked at the impromptu choir in the rear view mirror. He caught Renee's yellow eyes and gave her a mock glare. "Would it kill you to try Avenue Q or something?"

* * *

_Two Days Later_

Will held a mug of coffee in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. He set the tea down on the table for Magnus, and took up his usual spot at her side, tablet computer in hand. Henry nodded a greeting and gave him a tired smile. The empty Red Bull on the table showed how the HAP was attempting to wake.

"Okay," Henry said. "We've got live feed from sunny San Diego." Two monitors lit up rather than the expected three. "We almost have everyone." He went back to fiddling with his controls.

One monitor showed the craggy face of Lucás Amadeo, the Head of Mexico City. Was he still head? Will wasn't sure what the procedure was, but he knew they were trying to get up and running again. In any case, Will didn't know much about the man beyond that he was some sort of abnormal, and that he'd married his American-born partner before this mess started. Will had been in charge while Magnus and Biggie had been in San Francisco for the event. He'd never met him personally though. He looked better than he had during the attack on his Sanctuary. While many of the worry lines were still present, he was no longer injured and his color was good. He appeared to be focused, with a resolute set to his jaw. He was in a bright, well appointed room with white walls and natural light.

The other monitor showed another Hispanic man who had long dark hair, leading-man good looks and vibrant yellow eyes. So this was Javier Martinez, Magnus' were-jaguar associate who ran some sort of entertainment business in San Diego. He'd been an asset in helping to house and feed the refugees from Mexico. He was in a professional office, several awards of some sort on the shelf behind him.

"And one moment... there," Henry said. "Here we go. Aaron. Also live from San Diego."

Aaron Eschel usually did the same sorts of jobs that Ashley had done in Old City. He'd started off in Cairo, but had moved around the world before finally settling in London. He was good at what he did, and his skills had been needed by many Sanctuaries. Declan spoke highly of him, and he'd been sent to oversee Wexford when he'd broken the rules. He looked exhausted but he had a freshly showered and shaved look that made Will feel better about the man's morale and by extension his group's; it was amazing what simply being clean could do for a person's outlook.

"Gentlemen," Magnus said. "Aaron, how are you people fairing?"

He smiled slightly. "Better now that we don't need to run again in the next few days. Javier has been a big help."

Javier nodded. "Not a problem. I'll be happy to hand this all over."

Lucás laughed. Beside him, Will heard Magnus make a small sound of amusement. Yep. Aaron had no idea what was in store for him.

Aaron rubbed the back of his neck. "What's the plan, Magnus?"

"First we're reestablishing Lucás' House in Tijuana until we can be sure Mexico City is once again safe. We're also opening a new Sanctuary in San Diego."

Lucás nodded and took up the conversation. "With New York closed for the time being, and with the problems we have been having, it makes good sense to have two so close together. We'll be able to help one another and share resources, as well as protect our contacts in the local government and border patrol."

"I'll help in any way I can," Aaron said.

It was very hard for Will not to grin. Henry turned away from the pickup to hide his own smile. Magnus and Mr. Martinez didn't bother.

"Well that's good," Martinez said. "Because you're in charge."

Aaron blinked. "What? What about you?"

"I have a business to run." Javier said, smiling cheerfully, "And we both know Maria would kill me. Slowly. But if you need any help, I will be happy to offer it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm needed elsewhere. My assistant Rosie will address any concerns you may have." He smiled and reached out off screen. His monitor went dark. Huh. Maybe being abrupt was a were-jaguar thing, Will mused.

"Magnus! I'm not a-"

"A bureaucrat?" Lucás supplied, tone dry.

"To put it mildly, yes." Aaron gave the him a slightly sour look that matched his voice.

"You handled yourself well in New York. James trusted you. The other Heads think very highly of you and you're familiar with how many Sanctuaries work. More than that," Helen paused, "Aaron, we need someone with your particular skill set. While we've all done fieldwork, Declan and I are the only ones who have any sort of military background." Magnus' lips turned up in a wry smile. "And while I'm proud to have served king and country in Normandy, it's safe to say I'm out of practice."

Aaron's lips twitched into a brief smile before he sobered. "You don't need a general."

"No," she agreed. "But we do need strong voices who know what they're talking about when it comes to matters of physical security. This is a war."

"Magnus-"

"Aaron. We need you. In the future if you wish to step down, we can discuss it, but right now you're exactly who we need."

Aaron let out a breath, scowling thoughtfully. He eyed Will. "You sure you don't want to drop Zimmerman in charge?"

"Woah!" Will held up both hands. "Thanks for the vote of confidence but I don't think you want the new guy in charge."

Aaron shrugged a shoulder. "Worth a shot." Finally he nodded. "Okay."

Will could almost feel Magnus' relief. It was evident in her voice as well. 

"Thank you, Aaron. I'll let the other Heads know you've accepted. We'll have a conference tomorrow."

"A day to get my bearings. How generous," Aaron quipped, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Well, if I'm going to be a security advisor I might as well start there. Any activity I should know about?"

"Maria mentioned that one of her residents was called to her home village by her Elders. There was a small altercation on the road to the airport, but evidently the men sent to collect her were able to handle the situation," Helen told them. "I mention it because they seemed to be very familiar with modern equipment and weaponry. The Cabal obviously didn't expect much resistance." 

"Huh. Do they want jobs?" Aaron asked, tone wry.

"Who left?" Lucás asked, curious.

"Xilo. She's an artist and metalsmith."

"Xiloxochitl?" Lucás asked, dark eyebrow rising. "I remember her. Pleasant girl. If she's been called to serve her Elders, I doubt she will be happy. She left for Rio because it is more cosmopolitan than Mexico City. She won't be happy back in the middle of the jungle."

"Maria was told it was a temporary thing, or at least that was what she hoped. Are you familiar with this village of Elders?"

"Yes and no," he said.

"She have to care for her grandmother?" Aaron asked. "And does her grandmother know how to use an automatic rifle?"

"Elder is a bit of a misnomer. "First Tribe" would be more correct, or perhaps "Central". It is a complicated system of loose government that many local abnormals, and sometimes humans, have constructed in the jungles. I do not know which one her clan supports, but if the men who called her were well trained, then it is fair to say they are very likely the reason certain drug cartels avoid parts of the jungle. These Elder Tribes hold the sovereignty of their lands very seriously. Some use modern equipment in response to what the drug cartels use, others employ more traditional means."

"Well that brings me to my question again, and this time I'm not joking. Do they want jobs?" Aaron asked. "The boys from London did a number on the Cabal, and we could use even half a dozen men who know jungle guerrilla tactics. It'd set my mind at ease about Rio, Jakarta and even Mumbai."

"I'll ask Maria to see what she's learned from the gentlemen staying in Rio. She told me she intended to investigate what help we could possibly get if any."

"Thank you. So, do we have a location set in San Diego?"

"We have a small safe-house currently, but we've been able to sublet some property from Javier."

"Is he sure he doesn't want the job?" Aaron asked.

"Very."

"Maria would kill him," Lucás added, sagely.

Aaron sighed. "Right. Well. I'm asking Sophie to be my second down here unless she runs screaming. That's non-negotiable if you want me in charge by the way."

"Wasn't she Terrance's secretary?" Lucás asked.

"Yes but she's the only bloody reason any of us got out. Damn useful having an empath around when there are treacherous snakes in the grass, let me tell you." He paused, lips pursing ruefully. "She knows the New Yorkers and more importantly, she knows paperwork. We all know I'm rubbish at that, so I figure between the two of us, we should be able to keep everything from shaking apart and bursting into flames."

Magnus clicked her tongue. "Being Head of House isn't as bad as all that."

"Mmm, true." Lucás mused. "It's worse." 

The meeting concluded two hours later. Aaron logged off to get his people to the address Javier had provided to them. It was apparently personal property in a place called "Rancho Santa Fe". Will had never been to San Diego before and made a mental note to Google the address. It was probably some ranch space out of town, which would work well he imagined. There might even be barn or something they could keep some of the collection in until they found a better location. Most of the New Yorkers were more urban abnormals, but a stay in the countryside wouldn't hurt.


	5. Dance With The Devil

Terrence was losing patience. The bankers had dealt with him before and were polite, but he could still see the fear in the eyes of some, the revulsion in others. A few were openly curious, but to a person they were professional. No, they could not move Terrence's money around. Unfortunately they could not comment on when it would be free. With deep regret they could not release his funds. Over the past week, he'd climbed the ladder from account manager to supervising manager to vice presidents of this or that. As he climbed, his meetings took place on rooms higher and higher within the skyscraper. This was an international bank, used to dealing with unusual clients, quietly, efficiently and discreetly. They were certainly quietly and efficiently stonewalling him.

Finally he was shown into an office by a secretary who didn't bat an eye at his unusual appearance. The decor was composed of clean modern lines and minimalist artworks. Terrence preferred a darker, older style, one thing he and Magnus apparently agreed upon, but he could appreciate the designer's touch in this office. It smelled very faintly of new paint however, so perhaps there had been a change in position which was causing problems with his money. He hoped to be done and out of the building quickly or he might just send Thomas to reacquire his funds by less-than-legal means, he was so fed up with waiting.

"Mr. Wexford, Ma'am," the secretary said.

"Thank you, Pauline," the voice behind the chair said. Female. Confident. The chair turned around and the striking red-head smiled at him. The smile genuinely reached her eyes, and that just made it all the more terrifying. Instinct screamed at him to run, but the door clicked shut behind him with quiet finality. He'd seen her photo in a briefing. Dana Whitcomb. A leader if not _the_ leader of the Cabal.

She folded her hands on her desk. "Please have a seat Director Wexford. We have much to talk about."


End file.
